


Siren of the Sea (Part III)

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Siren of the Sea [3]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirates, Blood and Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Lots of OOC behavior, M/M, Medical, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Pirates, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Stitches, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma, Unrealistic violence, Violence, therapeutic writing, writing as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: In this AU, Konoe finds himself abducted by a pirate slaving ship, captained by the terrifying Captain Rai. His ability to sing is inadvertently discovered when trying to help a sick young fellow kitten Ciel, who hasn’t dealt with the capture well. His comforting Siren’s melody was heard throughout the ship and catches the captain’s eye. Will he be able to hold his own, against this fearsome seafaring devil?Chapter 1 starts right after Konoe has been assaulted by Spots, Sin’s accomplice, both former crew members of Rai’s ship, The Murderous Joy. Mink has employed them to help convince Aoba to do his “duty,” breeding with Mana. In the process, Konoe is violently raped. Afterward, he’s left alone in the room with Sin, who's been stalking him since Rai publicly claimed him on deck two weeks earlier.Start with Part I+II if you're new to this series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Murderous Joy - Captain Rai](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/391784) by foxyladycpz. 



I’m left alone with Sin once the door closes behind Mink. Mink is the cause of my current situation and suffering—my current pain—that assault that I still can’t get my head around—so why do I feel so much _less_ safe with him out of the room?

A chill comes over me, starting at my ears and traveling down my body, and since the gray cat has his hands on me, he can feel it as it traverses my body.

“Anticipating something good, are you?” His voice has gotten more slippery in the past few minutes. It’s a slimy sensation in my ears. He sounds disgusting and gross, but most of all, frightening.

I don’t respond. I don’t want to interact with him. He has me restrained like some animal—why should I respond? Except I know he going to hurt me if I don’t…

Whack!

Something hits me—hard—centered right in the middle of my ass—sending the raised welts into an absolute uproar. Screaming in response to the pain, I know this couldn’t have been caused by a hand, but I didn’t see anything else around he could have used. What was it?

“Answer me when I talk to you,” the slimy voice leaks into my ears. “Then I won’t have to hurt you so much. I can make you feel _good_ , you know. All you have to do is listen to me, and obey, and all will be well.”

I press my lips together, and I can’t tell if what I’m tasting is tears, snot or spit. My face is completely wet. I accidentally bit my tongue with that last impact, too, so I also can taste fresh blood in my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble into the bed. “I bit my tongue and got distracted just now. What did you hit me with, anyway? That _really_ hurt! And what was your question again?” My speech is slurred because I’m playing around with my tongue, trying to figure out exactly where I've been hurt.

Whack!

The blow tears another scream from of my lungs, even though I was half-expecting it this time, thinking my remark would piss him off, but _damn_ , that hurts! I figure out what it is this time, though: it’s his _belt_.

“Do you _enjoy_ pain?” The sound of his voice really creeps me out. “I’m beginning to think you do. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. It makes sense why you and Rai would get along so well. He enjoys _inflicting_ pain on others so very much—in fact, I think he can’t _survive_ without inflicting pain, making himself feel powerful. If you enjoy experiencing pain, you’d be the _perfect_ match, wouldn’t you? You meet each other’s needs, I suppose.”

His hand runs down the length of my body, stopping at the base of my tail, sending another awful chill up my spine.

“Your tail is _so_ pretty, Konoe,” he sighs dreamily. “Your fur is all fluffy and full—I hope you stay angry or mad or scared or whatever it is you’re feeling right now, _just_ to keep your tail fluffy like this. It almost makes you look like you have long fur. It’s _easily_ as attractive as the Captain’s tail. Yours is more interesting, of course, with this strange little kink at the end. Have you always had it, or was it broken at some point in your life?” 

The feel of his hand, creeping and crawling down the length of my tail—though, at _least_ he’s not brushing my fur backward—it feels _so_ intrusive, so uninviting, so unwelcome. I feel nausea rising in my chest and vomit in my throat.

“ _Please_ , don’t touch me,” I am starting to sound more desperate, despite the fierce growl that accompanies my words. “Take your hands off me.” I have to swallow the last word, “me,” along with the bile that’s threatening to spew out of my mouth.

“But you’re _refusing_ to answer my questions,” Sin whines in reply.  I feel his hand slip up and down my tail once again. I loathe the feeling of his hands on me—he acts as if I ought to _enjoy_ the sensation like he is being generous or even stimulating. He acts as though I’m _allowing_ this caress when really, he isn’t giving me a choice. I’m still shackled to the bed, restrained, unable to cover myself or move out of his reach. I can’t consent to his touching, and it’s _mortifying_. 

“I’m _not_ anticipating anything good,” I answer a question from several questions back, struggling to get the words out, working through the discomfort of his touches. “Perhaps it’s easy for you to mistake a quiver of _fear_ for a quiver of _anticipation_. It may look the same to someone with your lack ofexperience.”  
  
Whack!

Again, the belt comes down—this time against my the back of my thighs—and I feel the buckle drag across the welts left from Mink’s whip, leaving fresh stripes across them, and I’m sure, drawing blood. I let out a pained wail this time. The pain creeps both upward into my ass and down my legs, making my toes curl and my claws draw, though I can’t even grab the mattress for support. I’m sure I’ve bristled my fur even more in response, which is probably _exactly_ the response this gray cat wants to see, but I can’t help it. It _hurts_! 

“Tch—you hit me when I keep quiet _and_ when I answer your questions,” I manage to get out between my angrily sobbing breaths. “What do you _want_ from me?” 

“I’m looking for an honest, sincere response,” Sin replies. “Not some smart-ass remark like that. I have _no_ qualms about punishing you right now. I’m convinced you _enjoy_ this.”

How could he possibly come to this conclusion? From my tears? My screams or cries? How I’m struggling to free myself? I must have made a noise indicating my disbelief because he continues. 

“Well, if you truly _didn’t_ enjoy pain, you’d _cooperate_ , wouldn’t you? You’d answer my questions for fear of reprisal. You’d acknowledge what position you’re in and understand you have no choice _but_ to cooperate.”

“But didn’t you indicate I had a chance of being an equal, were I to begin a relationship with you?” I ask, still muttering my reply into the bed, still trying to get a hold of myself, managing my pain, my anger, and my frustration. “Who’s to say I’m not testing the waters right now, in this so-called _egalitarian_ relationship you promised me? If our roles were reversed, what would you think? Would _you_ believe a single fucking word that came out of your mouth if you were me?”

Whack! Harder still—the belt comes down a fourth time against my sit spot this time, leaving behind a red, wide welt. White sparks flash in the corners of my eyes—perhaps they are tears sparkling in the dim light—once the pain registers. My voice can no longer produce a scream; only a hoarse cries come out. My throat is worn down from my earlier cries. The blow hurts so much that the pain has nowhere to go, and it wraps around to the front of my hips, into my hip bones, crawling on the surface of my sensitive skin, getting sickeningly close to my private parts.

“You answered my first question. Next, the second: Do you _enjoy_ pain? And if you don’t, why aren’t you cooperating with me? It would be so much easier for you if you did. I could make you feel _so_ good. I _want_ to make you feel good. I want to hear the noises I heard outside the captain’s quarters—those lewd sexual sighs and moans that sounded like you were losing yourself in pleasure. That’s what I want to hear. Don’t you want that instead of a belt?” 

“I don’t get to choose,” I retort, still facing the mattress, refusing to look at him. “You took any choice I have away from me once you restrained me.”  
  
“So, what you’re suggesting,” that contemptible voice speaks softly, directly into my ear, making me flinch and flick my ear down against my head. I hear the disgustingly wet click of a tongue licking his lips. “What you’re suggesting is that I _release_ you from your restraints? Then you would be able to choose?” 

“It would help, yes,” I answer. “I still don’t think it would change my current position, however.” 

“You don’t, do you?” I can feel him leaning back, and then I hear a clicking sound. My ankles are released from their restraints. Immediately, I pull my legs together for at least a slight degree of comfort, giving a short sigh of relief. He also releases my right wrist restraint, and I pull that arm closely against my body, wrapping myself as tightly as I can, my remaining left arm still restrained. “Feel better?”

I swallow, considering what I should say. I figure I need the reprieve, so I quietly whisper, “Thank you.”

There’s a short silence afterward. Then the gray cat opens his mouth once again. 

“I feel I ought to apologize for my friend. He treated you much more cruelly than I thought he would.” I feel a very unwelcome hand brushing against my ass again. “He has very low self-control, but I thought even he knew the _basics_ of sex. I would never want to hurt you like that. He probably thought you wouldn’t need any prep, seeing how often you and the Captain have been fucking, after all.”

I feel anger, shame, and anxiety rising in my chest. Why is this cat in here with me? What does he want? I keep myself curled up tightly. The blood is no longer actively trickling down my legs, but that might just be because I’m on my side right now. Plus my ass is swollen from where he’s beaten me with his belt. It felt _so_ much more painful than when Rai used a belt, and _just that thought_ makes anger flare up. Would Sin have beaten me like this if he _hadn’t_ seen Rai use a belt on me in front of the entire crew? Still, I _didn’t_ get welts from Rai. It hurt, but it was more humiliating than painful. And strangely, it was a wild turn-on when Rai did it, which this beating most _certainly_ _was not_.

My body is covered in sweat, from head to toe, the tips of my ears to the matted fur of my tail. I start to shiver, even though I’m sweating. That sick feeling rises in me once again. 

“Are you cold?” Sin asks, his slimy voice turning more gentle. “Let me warm you up a little.”  
  
My stomach flops around again in my belly when he pushes his body up next to mine, climbing into bed next to me. He’s taken off his shirt or at least unbuttoned it, so he can feel my back against his chest, skin to skin. I _despise_ the feeling, and my body feels repulsed by his touch. I’m _desperately_ fighting nausea as I try to relax, trying not to pull away or make myself stiff.

“Not cold,” I reply tonelessly. 

“No—your skin is covered with sweat, in fact,” the cat whispers into my ear. His hands come up from behind me, wrapping around both my sides, meeting in front, caressing my chest and abdomen. I curl myself up a little more tightly, dreading the moment his hands start slipping lower, which they do the instant the thought crosses my mind.

“I feel sick,” I warn, as soon as I feel his hands on my belly, tracing the soft fur just below my navel, that fuzzy blond fur that leads where I _least_ want his groping hands and wandering fingers. 

“You certainly _do_ feel warm,” Sin remarks. “But aren’t you just saying that as an excuse? Why not just relax? You can trust me.”  
  
_Trust_ him? “Trust you?” I try to keep my voice level, but it fails. I think of what he’s done to me so far, my ass still burning from the hiding from the belt.

“Yeah, and to show you how much _I_ trust _you_ —“ he reaches up and unlocks my left wrist from its restraint, leaving me completely unrestrained on the bed. I pull my arm in close to my body, curling it up with the rest of me, trying to provide myself with what little comfort I can.

For just a moment, my mind fills with panic and desperation. I freeze, curled up tightly, wondering if I should run. I _cannot_ face another assault like the one I just experienced. My body won’t be able to handle it, nor will my mind—and the way he’s stroking me, I _know_ that’s where he’s headed, what he’s expecting. I can feel his hardening dick pressing expectantly into my lower back. The question is: even if I _could_ get away from him to the door, where would I go from there? Would it even matter? What are my chances of escape?

But I can’t just _lie_ here and take it. I have to take a chance. I _have_ to try. I breathe in deeply several times as if I’m trying to relax my body—and I _do_ feel like I’m going to throw up—but mostly it’s the thought of this guy touching me that’s making me sick. I have to do it. I have to run. I can’t just _stay_ here. I mean, what could they do to me that would be worse than they’ve already done?

As I’m relaxing, I can feel my body start to vibrate slightly with a growl. It sounds a little like a purr, which takes Sin by surprise and delight. 

“Ah, now that’s more like it!” He exclaims, his sticky voice filled with joy. “You’re purring! Feeling better, then?” 

And before he can move his hands down any further, _before_ he can start groping me below the waist, I muster every bit of energy and stretch out my body all at once, pouncing on him, scratching his face, his eyes, his throat, and his chest with my claws. When his hands come up to defend himself, I bite his fingers—hard enough to draw blood. Sin screams—louder even than _I_ was screaming—and rolls off the bed onto the floor into a defensive posture, and I leap over him, off the bed and to the door.

To my shock, it’s _unlocked_! I’m filled with relief, and I throw it open and leave, slamming it shut and locking it behind me on my way out, leaving that gray cat helplessly rolling around, bleeding, on the floor, locked inside that room, _alone_. With the door shut, you can hardly hear his screaming. In fact, anyone walking by might think it was _me_. 

I look up and down the hallway. I have _no_ idea which way to go to find the exit—I can only guess. I’ll have to come back for Aoba and Mana, once I get myself to safety, but my life is in _danger_ here. I choose to go right, opposite from the way we came. My chains drag noisily on the ground, and I do my best to walk more quietly, but I can’t control the sounds the shackles make. 

My body is filled with tension as I scurry along quickly, walking past each door as fast as I can, trying to find a door or a window that looks like it goes outside, and my nostrils flare, seeking the scent of fresh air.

As I make haste, it occurs to me that I’m still naked, but I can’t do _anything_ about that now. As I continue on my way, my nose comes across a _very_ familiar and _wonderful_ scent—and my heart leaps in my chest and tears fill my eyes. Is that what I think that is—could it be? Is it _Rai_?

I pick up the pace, nearly running, the chains trailing after me, and I come to a stop before a closed door—I _know_ he’s behind it—when I freeze in my tracks. I hear Mink’s deep voice, speaking flatly, from beyond the door. I’ve walked up in the middle of a conversation, so I don’t catch the entire exchange.

“… not here. I meant to take you both along with Aoba, to keep you safe, _both_ of you, when I woke up from the drugs, but you were both already gone. I know who was behind it, though, and they must have taken your Siren with them. I assumed they’d taken you, too. Your Siren has such a unique scent, they probably couldn’t help themselves, you know? It was the leader of Benishigure, Koujaku, who sent the poison. I’m _sure_ since he was devastated that Aoba came along with me. He must have done it out of revenge. I currently have my men out looking for you both right now, which is why we are not well-defended at the moment.”

What a load of bullshit! I can’t believe my ears! 

I can’t make out his words, but my heart flips in my chest when I hear Rai’s _voice_. He's replying to Mink. I _know_ it’s him—I can _feel_ him—he’s speaking softly, calmly, to Mink. I’m filled with _such_ relief—from my head to my toes—and my body starts to hum, tears stinging my eyes. I’ve never cried so much as I have during the past two weeks—it must indeed be a Siren thing, as Mink suggested. I’ve never been so relieved to hear _anyone’s_ voice—the tender, low timbre of it, its calm vibration resounding in my chest and in my body. I _can’t_ wait out here.

I try the door, and the handle moves. Of course, Mink would _never_ lock a guest inside. The moment I enter, all eyes turn to me, and I see Mink’s straight face flash completely furious for a split second just before that straight solid mask wipes his emotions clean. 

“Rai!” I cry out. “You came for me!” I can’t keep the tears from overflowing—and palpable relief overwhelms my entire body. I run to him, embracing him, quite literally climbing into his arms—but not before I see a look of complete shock and horror cross his face, as soon as he gets an eye full of my condition.

“Konoe!” He’s called my name. It makes my hair and my fur stand on end to hear him call me like that. I cling to him desperately, feeling safe in his arms. He can do whatever he likes to me—I just need him to get me out of here. I feel the warmth of his body against my naked skin, and the strength of his arms around me, his hands caressing my hair, my ears, and then, down my back—stopping at the base of my tail rather abruptly. “What has happened to you?” His voice is filled with concern. 

I dissolve into tears at that moment—loud, uncontrollable sobs, unable to catch my breath. But I’m safe in his arms. Through my tears, I notice Bardo has come with him. I hardly recognize him, though. He too has the same look of shocked horror on his face. Bardo is dressed in black and brown leather from head to toe—it looks like body armor. In fact, Rai is dressed in leather body armor as well, although he wears black and blue. Both are heavily armed. And two other cats in attendance are dressed the same way, all carrying longswords and daggers, as if ready to go to war. I’ve _never_ seen his crew dressed this way.

I feel Rai push my bangs off of my forehead. My hair is stuck to my face with my tears, and he gently takes my chin in his hand, examining me. “Someone  _hit_ you in the face? Where else are you wounded?” I feel his fingers caressing my bruised cheek, moving his thumb to my lip, which is also swollen. “What has _happened_ to you? Where are your clothes?” He removes his cape as he says this, and wraps it around my shoulders.

He turns to Mink, a rage covering his face and body, unlike anything I have ever seen. “Do you care to explain?”

Mink stands up, lifting both his hands in front of him, and opens his mouth, “I truly meant him no harm.”

“No harm?” Rai repeats. “You meant him no harm.” He speaks those words softly, examining me once more. “The key, please, for his shackles. Now.”

Mink tosses it over, and Rai catches it, and without hesitation, begins unlocking the heavy shackles from my wrists and ankles, letting them drop to the floor. When he kneels before me to unlock my ankles, I nuzzle my face into his hair, inhaling its comforting scent, taking gentle handfuls of it, letting the silky strands run through my fingers. We haven't been apart for long, but I've missed him so much. My _heart_ has missed him.

As he stands up, he freezes for a moment, putting a finger on a welt on the front of on my thigh. It was made by Mink’s whip. Speaking ever so gently and softly to me, he says, “Turn around. What is this. Show me.” It’s not a request, it’s a command. I can _feel_ a rage building in him that is both silent and deadly. 

I obey, turning my body around. Now I’m facing Bardo, who has an absolutely broken look on his face. He mouths, “I’m so sorry” to me, and reaches out to touch my shoulder, making sure to touch me over Rai’s cape, and using a gentle touch.

I hear a hiss when Rai sees the welts on my thighs and my ass, and then _growling_. I turn my face to look over my shoulder, and Rai’s fur is fully bristled. He looks nearly _twice_ his usual large size, and he is truly terrifying. I feel a claw—his claw—tracing a line on my thigh—left from either Sin’s belt or Mink’s whip, and his growling grows even louder. The claw is gentle, just tracing the mark.

“Mink, I believe you owe me an explanation. Care to start?” 

“Of course. Like I said at the bar, I run _much_ stricter discipline here than you do on your ship—“ Mink starts.

“On your _own_ slaves! You have your _own_ Siren! What right do you have to take mine or even _touch_ him, whip him, leaving marks like _this_?” His voice is loud—he’s using his scary captain’s voice, and I flinch when I hear it. 

“I had to use the resources available to get him to comply with my wishes, and he is _very_ willful, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Mink explains. “However, you’re welcome to have him back now. He was able to convince my Aoba to breed.”  
  
I feel that claw sliding up my leg and stopping suddenly, when it comes across some dried blood on my leg. Blood and another fluid leftover from when Spots assaulted me. Seeing dried semen on the inside of my thighs, mixed with blood, makes Rai go _ballistic_ , and Bardo’s ears twitch, so he straightens his back, bristling his fur, and starts growling as well.

“What the _fuck_ did you do to him? You _raped_ him? Or had some _monster_ do it who didn't bother to _prep_ him appropriately? He’s a _Siren_ , for gods’ sake—sex is one of his talents—it’s a _gift_! Just give him time, let him warm up, and he will _take over_ in the bedroom or _any_ _other_ sexual setting. There was no need for this—this— _barbarism_! You should _know_ this! Do you treat your own Siren this way!?”

Rai draws his longsword—and his dagger—and approaches Mink. 

“I don’t understand you. You seem like an intelligent person, but you’re so filled with greed, so filled with a _singular_ _purpose_ you can’t see what’s _right_ in front of you! Is whatever that singular goal of yours _that_ much more important than observing what’s _right_  before your eyes? Are you unable to learn from all those books you’ve shared with me?”

Rai is threatening Mink, after having been invited in as a guest. It would be unheard of in Sisa. 

“Can you give me a _single_ reason I shouldn’t kill you right here, right now, and take Aoba out of your so-called care? I’d settle for _any_ excuse at this point!”

I’m relieved to see Bardo has walked to Rai’s side, either intending to back him up or else to prevent him from doing something reckless.

“Bring Aoba to me, now,” Rai says, keeping the long sword pointed at Mink. “Send your assistant. I’ll wait. He has three minutes.” 

Mink sends his assistant scurrying down the hallway, and less than three uncomfortable minutes later, Aoba is brought to the room. He is stunned to see Rai, Bardo, and the other two crew members there, and he looks around with his mouth hanging open, trying to gauge the situation.

“Keys. Give me the keys.” Rai is having trouble forming words through his rage. Again, Mink throws the keys at Rai, which he gracefully catches. After examining at Aoba’s face—touching his swollen lip gently—Rai unlocks Aoba’s shackles, kneeling in front of him as well. Aoba looks extremely uncomfortable to see Rai on his knees before him, but he doesn’t know what else to do. This can’t really be what he thinks it is, can it? Has Konoe can come through for him? It’s obvious that Rai is examing Aoba’s wounded thighs, as he’s unlocking the shackles on his ankles.

“Mink, your coat,” Rai orders. Mink removes his iconic trench and hands it to Rai. Rai drapes it gently over Aoba’s shoulders, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Just till I can find you something better.”

“This concludes our current business,” Rai states. “You understand, Mink, that the damage you’ve inflicted upon my Siren is considered damage inflicted upon me _personally_. I do _not_ consider us even. However, if you were depart this island tonight, that might in your best interest and safety.”  
  
Bardo does nothing but loom, backing up each of Rai’s statements with his large body and cruel-looking beard. How did he get it looking like that? Is it just because he’s wearing black today?  
  
“Let’s go. We’ve nothing more to discuss.” Rai turns on his heel, sweeping me off my feet in one smooth motion, bridal style, and walks out. I whimper, half in surprise, half in pain, when his hands touch the welts on my backside.

Bardo motions for Aoba to follow, and he does, limping slightly, obviously favoring one of his feet over the other.

“Do you require assistance?” One of Rai's crew members asks. “Allow me.” He also sweeps Aoba off his feet in the same way, carrying him from the room.

Bardo is the last to leave, allowing the other guard to go first. He gives a barely visible dip of his head in acknowledgement to Mink. It seems to say, “I’m glad we were able to spare your life today; you don’t realize how close you came to losing it.”

And we depart that awful place, never to return.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai, Bardo and his two crew members bring Aoba and Konoe to an onsen, where they have rooms reserved for the evening. Rai is quite upset with the physical state of his Siren, asking Bardo to see to Konoe's physical condition. Konoe undergoes a rather unpleasant physical exam and requires stitches. Rai has left the onsen for supplies and also to locate someone.
> 
> Warning: There's a medical procedure half-heartedly described here. Skip this if getting stitches in personal places bothers you.

To my surprise, we don’t head back to the ship. We end up spending the night at an onsen. _Plus_  we have an extra guest, Aoba. This is where we are headed—me, dressed in nothing but Rai’s cape, and Aoba, naked except for Mink’s trench coat. Rai walks right in; apparently, he’s already reserved rooms. He has the crew member carry Aoba into the same room as me.

It’s only occurred to me now, but what _are_ we going to do with a _second_ Siren? Is Rai _attracted_ to Aoba? I want Aoba safe—no, I _need_ him safe. But I feel an undeniable sense of jealousy when I see Aoba watching Rai—especially when I notice Aoba looking at his back so closely. I _know_ it isn't his _back_ Aoba is admiring— _not_ when Rai is dressed in those form-fitting leathers of his. Those pants _really_ highlight Rai’s muscular legs and butt. You’d have to be blind not to notice. It’s hard not to stare. I've even caught myself drooling a little. I saw  _both_ females _and_ males staring at his ass as we've made our way across the city, and Aoba is no different. He probably can’t help himself. Plus, I know Aoba is devastated by the recent loss of his life-long friend and almost-lover and is most likely feeling strong regret. But this knowledge doesn’t seem to affect my jealousy.

“Sirens,” Rai says. “I am glad we were able to locate you so quickly. Your song, Konoe, was very helpful. It was the key to helping me find you. However, it looks like I didn’t find you quickly enough. Aoba, you’re not in great shape, and Konoe...“ Rai’s voice trails off before he continues, and he puts an arm around me. “I am _so_ sorry. Please believe me when I say I came as quickly as I could, as _soon_ as I knew where you were. I didn’t _rest_ , I didn’t _sleep_ , I didn’t _eat_. Please understand I did the best I could—and yet, it _still_ wasn’t enough to save you from what must have been a traumatic experience.”

I reach my hands up to Rai’s cheeks, and I pull him toward me. I kiss his eyelids—his eyepatch—his nose, and then I kiss him gently on the lips.

“No, little one—you don’t understand,” Rai takes his hands in mine. “I think you’ve been _severely_ injured. I’ve _always_ been gentle with you when we’ve been together, taking extra care to prepare you as necessary. And this—this was _not_  a sexual act. This was deliberate _violence_. Please, will you allow Bardo to examine you? I want to be sure you’re all right before we connect again in that way.”

“Wh-what? Why?” I feel a little rejected—but in truth, I am still _terribly_ sore. I know something isn’t right with my insides. I was hoping he would just make me feel better and distract me from my pain.

“I don’t want to scare you, but that kind of violence  _can_  cause tearing and require stitches. I haven’t had a chance to examine you, but I’m afraid they may have been rough enough with you to cause that kind sort of damage."

“What??” I’m shocked. “I don't think I bled  _that_ much!” But part of me fills with dread. I think he may be right.

“But there _was_ bleeding, wasn’t there?” Rai confirms, not taking his hands from my face. He’s so careful to keep touching me, to keep me feeling wanted and desired.

“Yes,” I say quietly, dropping my eyes.

“And… pain? It was very painful?” Rai asks as though the details are painful to hear. His ears flatten against his head.

“Yes. A lot of pain. More pain than I thought possible. I thought I might be ripped in two and then torn inside out.”

Rai winces, brushing my ears with his hand. “Then please, allow Bardo to examine you. It will be uncomfortable, and you won't like it. I can stay with you, or Aoba can, I'm sure. But I’d like to go out and find clothes for you both. And I’m trying to locate someone.”

“I’ll help you, Konoe,” Aoba says hopefully. “You’ve saved me. _Please_ let me help you. You’re going to be OK.”

I feel dread in my stomach. Does Rai not want me anymore? Did he only desire me before because no one else had had me? Am I spoiled merchandise now? I look down at my hands for a moment.“All right. I would prefer if Aoba stays with me.”

Rai excuses himself and arranges for the exam to take place, making sure to kiss my ears before he leaves. It isn’t long before Bardo comes in, still dressed in form-fitting brown and black leather. I’d never noticed what a terrific build he has. He may be an older cat, but he has a fantastic body. It’s no wonder Ciel is attracted to him. I find myself overjoyed on his behalf.

I also notice Aoba checking out Bardo with the same lustful gaze he had with Rai. It occurs to me that Aoba has the same Siren-qualities inside of him as I do, but he’s never been permitted to indulge in his gifts the way I have. What would I be like if Rai and I _hadn’t_ connected the way we did? If I’d been left _alone_ during my first heat, or worse, my partners had been chosen _for_ me (and they were unwanted or not desired) or the partners I wanted were forbidden and killed, or if I’d been forced the way Aoba had?

Tears spring to my eyes. I reach out to Aoba, putting my hand on his arm. He looks up in surprise, and he sees my tears. “Konoe, what’s wrong?”

“Aoba,” I don’t know what to say. The words won’t come. “I’m so glad you’re here, _away_ from that place. And...” I swallow. “Words are not enough. But I want to let you know that I’m _so_ sorry about your friend. I don’t think I could _handle_ it if anything happened to Rai. I will do _anything_ I can to help you. I’m on your side.”

His face lights up when he hears my words. And then he _smiles_. He has a _beautiful_ smile. “Konoe, even _now_ you’re like this—all your suffering is _because of me_ —yet you still have feelings and tears on my behalf.”

Bardo brings in a bucket of warm water, towels, and a surgeon’s kit. He arranges the electric lights in the room to help him see. Before starting the exam, he pours a small glass of unappetizing-looking brown liquid from a glass bottle and hands it to me.

“Drink this. The potion includes both catnip and milk of the poppy. It will calm your nerves and also function as an anesthetic. It may make you feel a bit strange. Also, I’m not sure of the dose, since you’re a small cat. I just need to make sure you won't feel so much. I don't want to hurt you any more than you already have been."

He helps me lie down on the bed, getting me comfortable—well, as comfortable as I can be with my ass raised up high on a pillow, my legs open wide on either side. It’s a _terribly_ embarrassing position to be in, and I feel my ears getting hot and pink.

Aoba is holding my hands, sitting up on the bed, my head between his legs. He leans down to kiss my ears.

“Konoe’s ears turn such a pretty pink when he’s embarrassed. It looks like Bardo’s potion isn’t working quite yet. We should be able to tell that it's working as soon as his ears turn pale again, right?” I can hear gentle mockery in his voice. I don't appreciate his teasing.

“Aoba!” I mumble into the mattress. “You’re supposed to be my _support_ , not make me _more_ embarrassed!” I'm thankful that Rai isn't here to witness this, however.

“I’m sorry—you're just so _cute_. I can’t help it,” he whispers directly into my ears. His whisper sends a little chill into my spine, and I shiver. He keeps on whispering. “Plus, raised up like that, your cute little butt looks like a tasty snack—simply _delicious_ —good enough to eat!”

“S-stop it!” My ears get even redder.

However, sooner than I expect, I start to feel a light feeling in my chest, almost like I’m floating. The chill from Aoba’s whispering starts spreading over my body, and the pain I’ve been feeling starts to dull. I take a deep breath in—and I can smell Aoba’s warm, sweet scent—he smells like fresh flowers, like a bunch of carnations, maybe. He smells nice, inviting and relaxing. I close my eyes.

“It looks like it’s working,” Bardo’s deep voice murmurs behind me. “I just can’t believe the marks back here. Are these from a whip _and_ a belt? The skin is broken—how did that happen? It looks like the buckle hit him. Gods, how careless! I’m frankly surprised Rai let Mink off with his life. He must not have seen this.”

I feel a tender touch on my butt. Bardo says, “Konoe, I’m not sure how much of this you will be able to feel, so I will tell you what I'm going to be doing so as not to startle you. First, I’m just going to examine you to determine what kind of damage was done. This may be uncomfortable, but I’ll be as gentle as possible. Try to bear with it. This is just my finger, ok? Try to relax and take deep breaths.” 

I feel some very strange sensations. I definitely feel a finger intruding between my cheeks, feeling around by my entrance, and I panic, my tail coming down automatically to protect myself. My tail is grabbed firmly and held out of the way.

“Just try to relax, honey, ok?” Bardo gently reassures me.

I squirm a little and hear, “Nice deep breaths, Konoe.” A lubricated finger is inserted back there, and I cry out in pain and fear. Aoba grabs both my hands, letting me grab his hands and arms with my claws drawn. I know I must be scratching him, but he allows it.

“Konoe, hold onto me. Scratch if you need to. Cry if you need to, it’s ok.” Aoba is speaking to me softly.

It occurs to me that if a _single_ finger hurts like _that_ , how in the _hell_ am I ever going to take Rai inside me _ever_ again? Tears spill down my cheeks and a single sob escapes, but I do my best to relax, and soon, it doesn’t hurt _quite_  as much anymore.

“There you go, that’s better, you're doing such a good job. I know it hurts! I’m so sorry, honey,” Bardo continues comforting me. “They _really_ did a number on you. I’m going to clean you up a bit now. It looks like you require some stitches, so let’s get you nice and clean first.”

I feel some warm water and a towel, which is both terribly intimate and intrusive, but because it feels so nice, I don’t mind so much. I let out a relaxed sigh. The idea of getting _all_ the residue of that spotted cat _out_ of me is _incredibly_ attractive.

“Get _all_ of him out of me,” I grumble. “ _All_ of him.” My tears have slowed, and I just hear the sloshing sound of the cloth dripping in the bucket, and feel the warm water inside me. I squeeze my eyes closed.

“Now, before I start the stitches, I need to disinfect the area. This is going to sting. Take a deep breath, honey,” Bardo warns. And then, well, “ _sting_ ” is an understatement. It burns like _hell_ , and I nearly jump off the bed, levitating my entire body, giving a loud scream, with my fur bristled, claws drawn, fangs bared, and tears flowing freshly.

“I’m so sorry, Konoe,” Bardo says. “You’re doing great. And you’re ready for stitches now. Let’s give him a little more anesthetic. I thinking he’s not numb enough for stitches if he reacted like _that_ to the disinfectant. Aoba, help me turn his head. Konoe, can you swallow a little bit more?”

I drink more of the bitter potion, and they let me rest awhile. Aoba strokes my ears and my hair while we wait. It’s very soothing, but now I wish Rai were here. I miss him. But then again, I _don’t_ want him to see me like this.

“Is this damage permanent?” I ask.

“Oh no,” Bardo says. “You will heal just fine. The stitches will help you heal even faster, and make sure you heal the way you were before.”

“Are you saying I might feel different?” My voice is filled with dread and on the verge of panic. “Will I still be _able_ to have sex? What if Rai doesn’t _like_ how I feel anymore?”

Bardo doesn’t answer my question right away, which only _adds_ to my anxiety. He walks around the bed into my view. He cups my chin with his hand, turning my face to meet his eyes.

“Konoe, Rai was ready to burn down this _entire_ island in order to find you. There’s _no way_ a few stitches are going to be a problem for him. If _anything_ is going to be a problem, the only thing I question is whether he’s able to wait till you heal before having sex again. But he did _very well_ the first time, didn't he? He found _other things_ to do while waiting for you to go into heat. _Don't worry about it_.”

“What if he thinks I’m  _damaged_? I’ve been _used_ by someone else. Unclean. Dirty. I feel so _dirty_.”

Aoba looks at me now. “Konoe, that was _not_ your fault. It was an act of _violence_ , not sex. It was intended to make you submit, and make _me_ submit, to Mink’s will. It wasn’t sex. Rai understands that.”

“Even if it _were_ a sexual act, Rai has no room to talk. It’s not as though you were _his_ first. Plus, you’re a _Siren_. You’re _supposed_ to be a sexual being after all, aren’t you?” Bardo’s adds thoughtfully.

I exhale and feel like I’m floating. I feel very weird all of the sudden.

“His pupils are very large, aren't they? I think the medicine is working now,” Aoba remarks. “I don't remember him looking like this before. Konoe, are you feeling all right?”

“Mmm.” I close my eyes.

I feel some very strange tugging sensations on my insides when Bardo starts stitching me up, but it doesn’t hurt very much—only a few pricks and pinches. It takes more time than I expected it would. When he’s finished, he rinses me off with salt water, and I hardly feel anything.

“You’ll want to soak in salt water a few times each day, making sure these stitches stay clean,” Bardo explains. “The onsen may have a saltwater bath you can use. We should take the stitches out in about a week to ten days.”

“A week?” I ask. That’s a _long_ time to go without sex.

“Keep in mind, there at _other_ activities you can do, besides sexual intercourse,” Bardo says. “I’ll make sure Rai is aware of this as well.”

I feel something cool on the outside of my butt. “I'm putting some salve on these welts. You don’t want these to scar.”

“I can do it,” Aoba says. “You clean up.”

“OK, thanks,” Bardo says to Aoba. “You don’t have to rub it in. Apply it to the surface, and it will absorb. Get the welts on his thighs, too.”

I feel Aoba’s small hands on my ass and thighs, and they feel nice. I close my eyes and just enjoy the feeling. The salve burns a little when applied to the more intense welts, but his hands feel nice against my skin. My consciousness starts to fade a little, but I’m aware of Bardo clearing up his supplies, cleaning up his gear.

“Let’s get you a little more comfortable, Konoe,” Aoba suggests, as he pulls the pillow out from beneath my hips. “You don’t need to be _quite_ so exposed, though Bardo said we should leave your skin open to the air.”

I feel something soft—a blanket, perhaps—covering my shoulders. It warms me up, especially when I feel Aoba’s hands spreading it over my back and up to my neck as well. My head is fuzzy, my body feels numb, and I actually don’t feel any pain at the moment. But I do feel a slight chill on my ass—since it’s naked and exposed to the air. I give a little shiver again.

“I know, Konoe,” Aoba comforts me, stroking my ears softly. “Give yourself a little time. Bardo says you will warm up soon. But you need to keep that skin exposed, at least for now. Why don’t you try to sleep, at least till that medicine Bardo gave you wears off, hmm?”

His voice sounds really far away, and strange, as though he’s speaking through a hollow tube. Sleeping _does_ sound like a good idea, so I hum softly in assent, close my eyes, and drift off into a strange half-waking slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai returns from his errands to get an update on Konoe's progress. He has some alone-time with Konoe. Konoe is his usual angsty-self around Rai and is having issues with Bardo's anesthetic potion wearing off.
> 
> Some fluff and messing around here. Also, some serious stuff here regarding retelling of Konoe's traumatic experience.

I fall in and out of sleep, during which I can tell when people enter and exit the room quietly, but my ears twitch and my nose pricks when I sense Rai enter. His powerful scent, reminiscent of honey, is what tips me off, and it relaxes me.

He’s quiet when he approaches the bed, but he sits down beside me, softly stroking my ears in that comforting, familiar way of his. It feels good, and a quiet purr vibrates the core of my body. Rai speaks softly to Aoba, who updates him on Bardo’s procedure. I make out some of Aoba’s words.

“According to Bardo, there was some significant tearing,” Aoba sounds angry as he speaks to Rai. “Konoe required a lot of stitches—I think over 16 if I remember correctly. He’s also had _two_ doses of Bardo’s anesthesia, so he’s a little out of it now. It looked very painful—he even cried out during the exam. It looked quite traumatic.”

“I see. Bardo said the stitches will stay in for a week or two,” Rai confirms. “Do you know what caused these welts here?” I feel a soft touch on my legs. “It looks like two different implements. And do you know who was responsible?”

“Well, I recognize one as Mink’s whip,” Aoba said. “I’m pretty sure he used it himself. I wasn’t there at the time, but he’s used it on me before. The other—I’m not sure what was used, but he didn’t have these marks until _after_ he spent time alone with Sin.”

“Sin? My former shipmate?” Rai’s voice sounds full of anger. “I _knew_ I shouldn’t have let him and his friend off so easily. Don’t tell me the assault had to do with him as well!?”

“It wasn’t Sin, but his friend—the cat called Spots—who assaulted him.”

“I see,” Rai replies quietly. I feel his hand in my hair again, stroking me softly. “I just can’t imagine why he’d do something so violent to a Siren. I mean, all you have to do is give him a little catnip and some time, and he goes _crazy_.”

“Well, perhaps that’s not his default setting,” Aoba remarks. “It may be that Konoe has more self-control when he _isn’t_ with you.”

I hear a chuckle from Rai—that _sound!_ I just _love_ that sound—but why is he laughing in response to something _Aoba_ said? I feel a pang of jealousy in my chest, but I’m paralyzed from Bardo’s concoction, and I can neither speak or move.

“ _Self-control_?” Rai asks. “Self-control is _not_ a word I’d use in the same sentence with this little one.” I hear him chuckling again, this time under his breath, and he pets my ears affectionately, so I don’t feel the same jealousy I felt earlier. Perhaps he _does_ still love me after all. Maybe I do not need to worry so much, as Bardo suggested.

“Bardo said you’d gone out looking for someone,” Aoba asks. “I’m sure you’d prefer to be alone with Konoe. However, I’ve been locked away for so long, my curiosity has got the best of me. When I hear my savior is looking for someone on my island, it’s natural to want to help.”

“Of course,” Rai answers. “I’ve been looking for the leader of Benishigure.”

I hear a sharp intake of breath, and Aoba nearly leaps off the bed. “Oh? I knew the former leader, but he was killed by Mink. _Koujaku_ ,” and when Aoba says his name, it’s like honey dripping from his lips. “His name was _Koujaku_. He was a very close... childhood friend of mine.” I hear the nostalgic tone Aoba’s voice takes on whenever that name comes up. “I wonder who’s taken over Benishigure at this point. I don’t know who was next in line.” Oh—that was Aoba’s special person.

“Actually, Aoba,” I sense Rai moving closer to Aoba. “It turns out Mink was _lying_ to you. He wanted you to cooperate under any circumstance, so he simply told you he killed Koujaku. In reality, rogue pirates would be _foolish_ to start a gang war by killing the head of a powerful leader, totally unprovoked.” Rai probably has his hand resting on Aoba’s shoulder. Aoba’s hands, which have been allowing mine to rest in his, suddenly grip mine tightly.

“Wait— _what?”_ The shock in his voice and his body can’t be understated. He’s full of tension. “Are you _sure?_ Isn’t it possible you’re mistaken?”

“Well, I spoke to a tattooed cat with a dark ponytail, dressed in a red kimono with floral decorations at the hem, carrying a large sword. How many cats fit this description, Aoba? Does that sound like the Koujaku you know?”

“Oh my gods, he’s _alive_!” Aoba almost screams. I can feel a lift in my own heart from his joy. “Rai, _thank you_ , thank you, thank you! You’ve saved me once again!”

“He will be joining us here within the hour, so I thought you might like to get dressed. I’ve picked up some clothing for you. Go ahead and get cleaned up—use the onsen or showers. I’ll look after Konoe and help him get ready in a little while. We will join you if you don’t mind. I have some questions for your friend.”

There’s a small pause, and Rai says, “Siren, this is a _happy_ reunion. He was overjoyed to hear you were in good health. He’d been told you’d eloped with Mink, and honestly, he hadn’t taken it well. He confessed to some fairly heavy drinking since you’d absconded, and mentioned there were certain things he wished he’d told you. So don’t cry. This is a _joyous_ occasion.”

Tears prick my eyes when I hear Rai’s gentle words—they sound like they should be coming from another cat’s mouth, not Rai’s. Nevertheless, I’m pleased. I wish I could say something.

I hear a small sniffle, and then Aoba murmurs, “Thank you so much,” before scurrying off the bed. I peek out half-closed eyes and watch him take a package from Rai, nodding again in thanks before he leaves.

Now it’s just the two of us. I feel a little nervous. Rai sits back down on the bed, taking off his boots. He moves into Aoba’s position and gently places my head onto his lap. He folds my hands together for a moment, placing them underneath my head like a pillow.

I can hear him doing something with both hands. My nose prickles with something fresh and sweet, however, my brain isn’t functioning correctly, but my ears seem to be. I hear something familiar—it sounds like Rai is using a knife. It's frightening.

“Oy, little one,” his deep voice whispers right into my ear. He must have leaned down to reach me. His breath moves the fur inside my ears a little, and it tickles. I unconsciously flick my ear away from his mouth. “The old man said we need to get some food in that flat little belly of yours. So turn your head to the side and open up.”

I don’t understand. “What? What do you mean?” The words come out slowly and slurred, hard to understand since I’m speaking into the mattress and my head is fuzzy on top of that.

“Siren, open your mouth,” his voice sounds like he is smiling. Why? Is something funny?

“Why?” Again, I can’t understand what he means, or why he would want me to do something so strange.

“Don’t be difficult. Just _obey_ me, little one,” his commanding voice sends delightful shivers down my spine and into my tail when he’s whispering so closely in my ear like that—I can still feel the downy fur inside my ear moving around from his breath, and it tickles terribly.

“But you might do something weird to me...” I protest into his lap, sounding terribly weak and whiny. I’m not understanding anything, and I don’t understand my jealousy of Aoba. I don’t want to comply; part of me is feeling obstinate.

“Konoe,” Rai says my name, and before he can complete his sentence, I turn my head and open my mouth, just as he asked. It’s an automatic reaction—I don't even think about it—it just sort of happens. My body complies on its own, probably in response to him saying my name. “Well, that was perfect. I was just planning to feed you, that is all.” He finishes his sentence. As an afterthought, he says, “What a good boy you are.”

When he says that phrase, maybe it must be Bardo’s potion, but my body tingles from head to toe, from the tip of my ears to the tip of my tail, which bristles out and lashes back and forth satisfactorily. Almost as if an electric shock has gone through me, Rai’s simple words of praise send me into absolute elation. My quiet purr increases in volume.

Rai takes this moment to pop a piece of freshly sliced kuim into my mouth—it must be a local variety, freshly picked, ripe, and juicy—it’s  _delicious_! The buzzing sensation in my body gets even louder and more extreme. It feels like _years_ since I’ve tasted anything so fresh, anything this delicious. I am utterly delighted by the taste—and it’s an even _stranger_ sensation than eating kuims when I first went into heat, but it kind of reminds me of that time.

Rai gives me another slice once he sees me swallow, and he leans down to lick the corner of my mouth. It startles me at first—but I notice he’s merely licking juice of the side of my mouth.

“Even when I feed you, you’re such a messy eater,” Rai comments, a certain degree of wonder in his voice. “Are these kuims to your satisfaction, little one?”

“Mmmm,” I answer in the affirmative, as he feeds me another slice.

“I’m glad to see you’re eating again.” There’s a short pause when he feeds me another piece. “Konoe,” his voice turning quite serious again—serious enough so I open my eyes and search for his, but he pushes my head down back down to his lap, sweeping my eyes closed with his hand. “No, stay still. It’s ok. You’re fine. I know I sound serious, and I am. I just wanted to tell you—I spoke to Bardo about the extent of your injuries.”

I remain very still. I’m terrified, suddenly. Is he about to tell me I’m no good to him like this? I can’t breathe.

“When I saw you—how injured you were—and then when Bardo told me the actual extent, how many stitches were required, and how much more suffering you had to go through to fix the damage done to you—Konoe...”

A large hand comes down softly on my shoulders and back, massaging them gently. “I consider damage inflicted on you as damage inflicted on me. What was done to you is inexcusable. There was _no_ reason for this to have happened to you, _no_ reason for you to be caught up in the middle of another person’s scheming—plans that may result in _nothing_ in the first place.”

Suddenly, the anger disappears from Rai’s tone altogether. It’s replaced with terrible remorse. “I should _never_ have brought you with me. I should never have trusted Mink. Even though he’d always struck me as a person with self-control, I _should_ have foreseen how single-minded he gets when he gets an idea in his head.”

Rai shifts around on the bed, and turns my head slightly, brushing the hair out of my eyes gently, off of my forehead. He seems to be asking me to open them. When I open my eyes, I’m surprised to see that giant, ice blue eye right there in front of me. I give a tiny start—I’m not sure why I’m so jumpy, but I relax realizing it’s Rai, settling down.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I realize it will take more than a simple apology to make you trust me, little one,” Rai is looking deeply into my eyes as he says these words. “I _promise_ I will make it up to you.” Feeling his hand stroking my ears as he says this is almost unfair. Unbelievably, my dick is getting hard—but I can’t help it. It’s _Rai_ — _my_ silver cat.

“Y-you saved me,” I try to say. “There’s _nothing_ to forgive.”

“But Konoe,” Rai says, and I see his eyes wander down my back across my ass and thighs, “These welts... And those stitches. I may not be able to hold myself back if I find the cats who did these things you, I may not be able to control myself. I will probably kill them.”

I reach out my hand to touch Rai’s face. “I don’t want to t-talk about them.” I think my ability to speak is returning. “You don’t think I’m spoiled now? You don’t think I’m ruined?”

“What?” Rai looks at me with shock.

“Like spoiled merchandise—food that someone else has already taken a bite of? Because you were my first and only. Now—“ Tears suddenly spring unbidden into my eyes and slide down my cheeks.

“What’s this?” Rai’s tone says it all.

“Well, it’s like I’m dirty now. I’ll _feel_ different—that is, _if_ I heal at all. And what if I don’t heal _fast_ enough? Are you going to go to Aoba instead of me?” The tears flow freely down my face as I ask the question, but it’s a real fear. “Is that really why you were apologizing? Are you saying goodbye to me in that sense?”

“Konoe.” Rai pulls me up to my knees, being careful to keep the blankets covering me, all in one swift movement, which frightens me slightly. I’m not expecting it, and it takes my breath away when he does it. I’m facing him now, kneeling on the bed, my face only inches from his. He cups my chin with one hand, the other he keeps securely around my shoulders.

“Konoe,” he says my name once more. I still _love_ hearing my name from his lips. It does something strange to me. I can’t quite understand it—and maybe it’s because I’ve always lived alone, and I never had many people call my name. Well, Tokino did—but it _never_ affected me like this. But when Rai calls my name, he calls my _innermost being_ as well—and a piece of my _soul_ turns to listen. That innermost part of me _listens_ when he calls me. “I apologized because when you’re in pain, it pains me, so I _know_ you hurt. It physically _hurts me_ to see you like this. I feel _responsible_ for your current situation, and it’s taking _everything_ I have not to charge back into Mink’s headquarters and slaughter those two brutal excuses for cats that did this to you along with Mink, who allowed and permitted this to happen— _encouraged_ it to happen—refused to _stop_ it from happening—despite knowing better.”

He leans in and kisses me softly, gently, passionately, on the lips. But his tongue doesn’t invade my mouth. He is very careful with me.

“I’m afraid of the trauma you suffered. Bardo told me you were _severely_ injured. Some of the books I’ve read—and I _just_ confirmed what I’d read earlier—said that when your kind suffers sexual trauma it can have _lasting_ effects, even _more_ extreme than regular cats. That’s why I was so careful with the claiming process and warned you about what was going to happen and let you take the lead as much as possible.”

He brushes my hair out of my face, and I look away from him. I don’t want to talk about it.

“You don’t want to _tell_ me what happened? I think you’d feel better if you told me what happened to you. I want you to  _feel_ better.”

“But—“ I interrupt suddenly. “But he _spoiled_ me for you! He _ruined_ me!”

“No,” Rai said. “He could _never_ do that. You’re _just_ as special as you’ve _ever_ been to me, Konoe. You’re still the same precious cat—the same Siren—I’ve been searching for all these years. And it’s _my_ fault you slipped through my fingers in those few minutes of drinking ale. I was so foolish not to realize Mink’s plans and his ulterior motive. And even so—you’re still _so precious_ to me.”

He tips my face up, so I have to meet his eyes. “ _Please_ tell me. To start, how did you get these welts?”

“Two different sources,” I reply quietly, dropping my eyes. “The first was Mink. He found me disobedient. Actually—no, it _wasn’t_ disobedience. I stood up for Aoba, I think, and he found it irritating. He was punishing me for stepping out of line, and also for allowing tears to fall when I wasn’t in physical pain. He said something about only being permitted to cry when I was in physical pain while in his company, so he was going to _give_ me something to cry about.”

“How many strokes did he give you?” Rai has pulled me in close while I’m talking, and I feel him trembling slightly.

“He said he usually had Aoba count, but he said he didn’t know how many it would take to break me, and so he didn’t have me count. And I didn’t. He whipped my thighs as well as my tail, and that’s probably when you heard me singing. My body did that in defense, I think. He punished me till I threw up and passed out.”

“Dear gods,” Rai murmurs, still rubbing my back and shoulders gently. I feel one hand drop down to my ass ever so gently, tracing just a few of the welts with a claw—I notice his claws are drawn in response to my story. Perhaps he is angry on my behalf.

“Go on,” he encourages, his voice a small rumbling growl in his chest. “You said there were two sources for the marks on you. What’s the second?”

“The second one came after I was assaulted. I was barely recovering—Mink suggested Spots rape me to encourage Aoba to mate with Mana, which he did. And then, Mink left Sin alone with me as a reward. Sin used a belt on me, trying to make me submit to him. He used the end with the buckle, and the buckle tore my skin.”

“Ugh,” Rai says. “That bastard. I _knew_ I should have taken care of him when I had the chance. Did he rape you also?”

“He was planning to, but he was looking for something less violent that Spots, I think.  He wanted my cooperation. I attacked him, scratching his eyes, his throat and his chest, as soon as he removed my restraints.”

“They had you restrained?”

“Yes. When I was assaulted. So I couldn’t move or get away. And when I was whipped, and when I was with Sin.”

“You must have felt so helpless.”

I pause a moment, a sick feeling rising in my chest. “Yes. I wanted to throw up. I didn’t want to be there. It didn’t even feel like sex. It felt like being struck in the face—which also happened earlier that day. Only more like being torn in half and then being pulled inside out.”

“Little one... I’m _so_ sorry. If I had _only_ come sooner. I could have _saved_ you.”

I feel Rai's strong arms wrap around me, and I stiffen up in them.

Rai whispers into my ears, “Do you want me to let you go? Does my touch make you feel comfortable? Am I frightening you?”

“No. Hold me tight,” I answer. I want to feel at _home_  in his arms. I don’t _want_ to be afraid. But a bolt of fear goes through me when I feel his powerful arms wrap around me like this. I take a deep breath in and let his scent wash over me, remember that this is _my_ silver cat, this is _my Rai_. Then I relax.

“Bardo says we will need to find other activities for a little while, just until you heal. Are you going to be all right with that?” Rai asks me. He’s peering at my face closely.

“Other activities?” I ask.

“You know, ones that don’t involve the areas with stitches,” Rai answers.

I feel myself blushing, and I look at Rai. His mouth curves up in a smile. “What? I’m sure we can manage.”

“You won’t get bored?” I ask.

“Of course not. We can be creative.”

“Creative?” I’m a little hesitant when I hear _that_ word from this cat. I’m not sure I trust what he means.

“Let me help you get ready for dinner, little one. We will join Koujaku and Aoba in their reunion—I’m _sure_ they’ll love us barging in on them,” Rai’s voice sounds a little mischievous. “I know we should keep your skin exposed, but I’ll be _damned_ if I’m showing your gorgeous ass off to the leader of Benishigure. I’m _not_ sharing. I also found you something to wear.”

He presents me a robe from one of the local markets. It’s a yukata, he says. It’s made of a high-quality silk in a soft gold with a beautiful, subtle orange koi print. The colors are subtle, woven with iridescent thread, and the fabric is light and breezy.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, and I’m stunned to think that first, Rai would have _chosen_ such an item, and second, that Rai would have purchased such an item for _me_. “Did you buy that for me?”

He looks up at me, meeting my eyes almost shyly. “I did. I thought it would suit you.” There’s an awkward pause. Has _he_ been the one choosing my clothing this entire time, I wonder? “Do you really like it?”

“I do. It’s beautiful. I’ve never worn anything so ornate. Except perhaps the uniform you selected for me when we went out earlier. But Mink ruined that.” I look down to hide my tears. I can’t believe I’m crying over clothing—but I’m sad, thinking perhaps the outfit was a gift from Rai. Not only had I never received a gift before; I’d never received a gift from someone I adore like Rai. The clothing means something _different_ to me now.

He smiles at me. “Don’t worry about it. We can make you another,” he replies, wiping the tears from my face—the tears I _thought_ I was hiding. “Let me help you get dressed. Stay where you are— _don’t_ stand up. Bardo said you are to take it easy.”

First, he removes the blankets from one of my shoulders. He’d pulled them up with me when he pulled me into a kneeling position in order to keep me covered. I appreciated it, since I am finding myself a little shy around him now, and I’m not sure why. I feel like my body is strange and different, and I dislike it a little bit more than I did the last time we were together, possibly because it couldn’t help me get out of my situation with Mink. Maybe Rai realizes this and is being gentle with me.

He slides one of the silky sleeves onto my bare arm, allowing the fabric to slip on naturally, like a caress. It feels like a kiss, sliding up my arm like that, and I feel a tiny shiver go through my body. It is _almost_ unwelcome, but I allow it since it’s Rai. The unwelcome feeling is a little strange, and I flash him a nervous look, and he looks at me encouragingly.

“Little one, we’re _just_ getting you dressed. That is all.” His voice sounds warm and inviting, as gentle as his touch. I’m struck by his kindness once again. Is he really going to be so patient with me?

Before I can ponder this further, Rai, moving behind me, takes the blanket from my other shoulder and slips my other arm into the sleeve. Again, it feels like a soft, silky kiss, and I close my eyes to enjoy the sensation, leaning back into his chest. His arms come up around my sides, over the silk. The cool touch on my sides feels both strange and nice, and I feel another shiver through my body. Because I’m leaning against him, I know he can sense me trembling, but he doesn’t say anything.

I feel his palms flatten against my chest, pressing against me—pushing against my chest, pushing my body against his in an almost possessive motion, especially when they wander toward my nipples. The tips of his fingers are wet—much to my surprise—and feel chilly compared to the rest of the room—and when they touch my nipples, my flesh responds instantly, hardening to his touch.

I feel a sudden movement—I’m not sure how he does it—but Rai is in front of me now, his head against my chest, a tongue loosely around one of my nipples, his hands flat against the silk fabric, pressing it against my back. He supports me fully, holding my weight, and he appears to be searching for something with his tongue—first one piercing, then the other. I can’t prevent lewd sighs from escaping when he's licking me like this.

I’m pleased to find my dick responding to him—relieved, in fact, though his sudden movement scared me to death, and caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. I think he bites me—“tch!” a pained sound escapes my mouth. And that’s when I hear him mumble something.

“No one injured your piercings? No one pulled too hard, tried to _hurt_ them? When I gave you these, they were _only_ for _my_ use, only for _me_ to touch. The thought that another cat touched them _enrages_ me—the thought that another cat might have hurt you with these piercings fills me with _uncontrollable_ anger. I don’t know what to do with myself!”

Rai tilts his face up to meet my gaze, and I’m shocked to see his fangs peeking through his lips—those beautiful white canines of his—and his pale blue iris is shining in its full luster with his eye’s pupil narrowed to a slit.

Floating behind him, I can see that gorgeous white tail bristled out—and that must mean his claws are drawn as well.

For a moment, my thoughts freeze. He _truly_ frightens me like this. This silver cat is twice my size and looks even larger when he’s angry.

However...

He’s angry on _my_ behalf, a voice in my head points out. My eyes are drawn to his silver hair, floating down, almost brushing my chest. It’s silky against my skin.

To my utter astonishment, I watch my own hand reach out to touch the tip of his sharp fang, poking out over his full lips. Just my index finger reaches out, caressing the sharp tip of that canine, and yes, it’s as sharp as it looks. I’ve confirmed it with my tongue.

I watch in even more amazement as my other hand reaches out to his _tail_ —oh gods, he’s going to _hate_ that!—But I can’t stop myself. I simply _must_ touch that fur. It’s so soft, silky and full, bristled up like that. I brush a little fur backward—just on the tip of his tail like he does to mine—and a shiver runs through his body, but his keeps holding me firmly with both of his hands, watching me, waiting to see what I will do next. I pop the tip of that tail in my mouth—also like he’s done to mine—and he visibly jolts, like a bolt of electricity goes through him, his pupil widening to a large circle.

“Konoe,” his voice sounds in warning. “I’m trying to get you _dressed_ here. Not take your clothes _off_. Watch your actions.”

Does he _like_ that? I watch his face curiously, and just before I lick his tail again, he snatches it from my hands, and pushes me backward into the mattress.

“ _Dinner plans_ , little one,” he pins my hand against the mattress above my head, his long silver hair falling over my face, and his fangs disappearing under his upturned lips. “Save your schemes for later.”

I don’t think I’ve _ever_ groomed him. Does he enjoy it _that_ much? That could be quite fun.

“Stand up for a moment,” he commands, and that voice—even though he only means to help me dress—it just _does_ something to me. I hope he doesn’t notice. But how can he not? The fabric is so lightweight, it will be impossible for him not to notice my current state of arousal. Was this a consideration in choosing this robe, I wonder?

Rai skillfully drapes the neck so that the nape shows several vertebrae, then closes the front in the same manner, so my chest is on dramatic display, making a great show of the chain on my chest. I feel like a doll when he dresses me like this. I feel myself blushing again.

He helps me adjust the length, folding and tucking it like origami at the waist since it’s much too long for me to wear as it is. It almost feels like I’m wearing nothing at all when it’s lying against my body—it feels practically indecent, actually, when it lies next to my legs. I wonder if he also considered this when he chose it, as well.

Rai deftly ties the obi—the one he’s chosen is a pale blue, which is very close in color to his eye, I notice. “You look _gorgeous_ ,” examining me from head to toe, and I notice he does indeed check my current state of arousal while examining me so carefully. Is it so obvious? I’m terribly embarrassed and feel my ears heating up, but he just gives me a smile. “It’s one of the many the benefits of this type of dress, you see.”

He changes as well. He has a similar robe in shades of silver and gray, a dragon print. His obi is a deep amber. It takes only minutes for him to dress, so I wonder if he was _deliberately_ playing with me.

“It didn’t take you long to dress,” I comment rather drily, from where I’m sitting on the bed. “Is it just easier to dress yourself, or were you taking your time with me? Were you messing around with me?”

My comment brings him to my side in an instant.

“But I _missed_ you. Of _course_ , I took my time. I wanted to take _even_   _more_ time, but we have _dinner plans_. I’m just trying to let you _know_ I missed you. _Reminding_ you I missed you. Reminding you of the things that can come _after_ dinner—only if you’re interested.” He looks at my face carefully. “I don’t want to pressure you, of course.”

I feel a hand on my thigh—on my _naked_ thigh—which is weird because I’m _dressed_ now. How is he doing that? I can’t see his hand since it's under my robe. How did it get there so quickly?

“Wait a minute. _Where_ is your hand right now?”

“It’s right _here_.” I feel a squeeze on the top of my thigh—it’s very gentle—and it brushes casually to the inside of my thigh, and _so_ careful not to touch any skin that's been hurt. It takes my breath away to have him touch me like that. And then the hand sweeps away and disappears. My robe is not out of place. How the _hell_ did he do that?

“You’re not going to do be doing that during dinner, are you?” I'm sure there's a certain degree of fear in my voice when I ask that question.

“I would _never_. That would be terribly distracting, wouldn’t it? I need you to eat properly, little one. Plus I’d _never_ do anything to rumple your clothes, Konoe.” Rai gives me a sidelong glance and raises an eyebrow just a hair.

I’m sitting on the bed watching him, suspicious and confused.

“After all, I wouldn’t want to do anything that would make our guests feel uncomfortable.” The hand is suddenly back underneath my robe, and my clothes still aren’t out of place. I _can’t_ figure out how he’s put his hand inside there. Suddenly, he grabs my half-hard dick. A shocked, lascivious sigh leaks out of my lips. “ _Would we_ , Konoe?” Gods, he said my name! I’m sure he feels me twitch and the delightful shiver that flows through my body right afterward.

“Rai!” I protest desperately, though I’m not sure what I’m desperate for, exactly. Do I want him to stop? Or do I want him to continue? I don’t know—but I _do_ know that he’s doing this _on purpose_!

He takes my mouth in a kiss—pushing me back against the bed—testing how my body responds—allowing the precum from my dick to act as lubricant as he gently strokes me underneath the robe.

I sigh and moan as he strokes me, torturously slowly, kisses me, strokes my tongue with his, and I’m confused as to which sensations are his tongue in my mouth or his hand on my dick. It's an overwhelming and almost frightening experience. I can’t tell the difference—and then he suddenly pulls away, leaving a small string of saliva between us. And he whispers, “ _Dinner plans_ , right, little one?” 

I’m _terribly_ frustrated.  
  
“Bardo said to keep your activity to a minimum, so I should probably carry you,” he states matter-of-factly. So he promptly sweeps me off my feet, making me lose my orientation for a moment.

“I’m fine,” I protest. “Put me down and let me walk!”

I feel a hand on my bare ass, _underneath_ my robe again, as he walks out of the room. How the _hell_ did his hand get there? What the _fuck_ is he doing? My body breaks out in a nervous sweat.

“ _Rai_!”

“Little one,” he whispers, directly into my ear, bringing the tip of my ear into his mouth and licking it soundly. “Shush now. We have _dinner plans_. Behave yourself. Our guests are arriving soon.”

“But your hand—"  
  
“Shh,” Rai’s low voice hisses conspiratorially. “We wouldn’t want to make our guests uncomfortable, would we?” And then, in a much, much lower voice, he adds, “Plus, if you squirm too much, your robe might come _right_ _off_! So _don’t_ _move_!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai brings Konoe to their dinner plans, in which they meet Koujaku. 
> 
> Mostly playful messing around, some language, insinuation of previous incidents, but nothing crazy.

I’m genuinely afraid by the time Rai brings me into the rather public dining room—I love how his hand _feels_ , but I’m not really into _this_ public of a display of affection, especially not if it means the entire dining room will be able to witness my current state of arousal through my clothing.

It isn’t that the yukata is _revealing_ ; it’s the silk fabric that is really light and soft, so if anything happens to move at all underneath it, it’s quite obvious. So why didn’t Rai provide me with some sort of undergarment? I’m flustered and blushing by the time Rai sets me down in front of the table, and he plops his large body down beside me.

I try moving away from him the minute I’m on the floor, scooting away just a _little_ to make a small buffer zone so I’ll have some warning before his hand shoots out to grab me. But when I do, he quickly grabs my body and pulls me close again, making a loud grunting sound, as if moving me requires a _great_ deal of effort. I'm quite shocked to hear that noise from him, because I’m really _not_ that heavy, and I’m honestly a little offended. I look at his face to see if he’s being serious. He returns my gaze, looking down at me darkly, almost threateningly, warning me _not_ to move from my current position.

“I want to sit _next_ to you,” he says quietly. “Don’t be cruel.”

I let out a huff at his ridiculous behavior, and I hear a loud, low laugh, which makes me look away from Rai. It’s Bardo, who has been watching our exchange.

“I’m glad you see you’re feeling so much better, little one,” he says to me. “And it also appears I was right about you having only that _one thing_ to worry about, hmm?”

A smaller voice pipes up sharply, “I don’t know exactly what ‘ _thing_ ’ you’re referring to is, but it sounds _dirty_. You’d best mind your manners! We’re in polite company!” It’s Ciel, sitting next to him, who punches him softly in the shoulder.

“Tch, it’s fine,” Bardo replies. “No need for violence.” In a near whisper, I hear him say, “You save _that_ for later,” in a much huskier tone, and Ciel actually gasps.

Rai snorts, and then quickly pretends to sneeze, covering up his laughter—it’s pretty decent, although clearing his throat would have sounded more convincing, I have to admit.

We all turn our heads toward the door before Aoba enters. We sense his approach—there’s something _much_ different about him this evening—I could easily sense the Siren in him before, but tonight, the others at the table also have tilted their ears toward the door and have their noses lifted in his direction. He must be excited, I think—although, I feel a jealous pang when even _Rai_ looks up so eagerly.

However, when Aoba actually steps into the room, my breath is taken away, and my jealousy is swept aside, replaced with desire. He is  _definitely_ a Siren. I wonder, have I _ever_ had that effect on others?

His robe is the same delicate silk fabric as mine. However, his is white with an abstract bright blue and amber pattern: the amber makes his eyes stand out in a beautiful way, while the blue accents his hair. The obi is bright red, which sets off the blue. Again, I’m stunned that Rai chose this yukata, knowing how gorgeous it would look. It makes me wonder exactly how much attention my silver cat pays to the other cats around him, _especially_ this lovely blue-haired one. Aoba looks _gorgeous_ in this outfit. It suits him perfectly—probably even more so than mine suits me. I’m _more_ than a little jealous—except that he looks so wonderful that I’m admiring him as well. I can’t help a little be proud of Rai’s work.

Also, he’s washed his hair, and it’s combed, fluffed out, and shining, and his fur is freshly groomed. I’ve never seen it look like this. His eyes are sparkling beautifully, so full of light and expectation. He must be absolutely thrilled to see Koujaku again, but the total effect is wild and beautiful. I wonder if he knows how beautiful he looks!

“Aoba!” I exclaim. “You look _wonderful_! The robe looks perfect. And I love your hair styled like that, too. It suits you so well.” His long blue hair is pulled off to the side and pinned up, so his delicate nape is on display. He has draped his yukata in the same way that Rai has done mine—and expertly, I might add. He knows how to dress himself, and it looks great.

“Thank you, Konoe,” Aoba replies, blushing slightly. “And thank you, Rai, for choosing such a wonderful outfit for me. I couldn’t be more pleased—and I _never_ would have chosen something like this for myself. I hope I didn’t put you out too much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Rai says, after clearing his throat. I look up at him, and use this chance to again try scooting away, trying to make that safe buffer zone. He notices what I’m doing, even from the corner of his eye, and pulls me back immediately. “What are you doing, little one? Are you _trying_ to hurt my feelings? So cruel! You devastate me.” He kisses my ears, and takes the tip of one into his mouth, sucking on it. I try pulling my head away, but he cups one hand under my chin, trapping my head in place, and I feel his other hand sneak under my yukata, coming to rest casually on my naked thigh. I squirm slightly in discomfort.

“If I were you, I’d stay _right_ where I was and stop squirming so much,” he whispers quietly, the words a little hard to understand with my ear in his mouth, “Just submit, or you may cause a scene, as we have _dinner plans_. I’d hate for you to embarrass the guests. It might be _terribly_ embarrassing if your yukata slipped and exposed you at the table. Although, I’d find it a _delicious_ sight, myself.”

I huff again, squirming more. “Rai!” I protest.

“What?” Rai replies. “I think you’re just a _little_ bit jealous of my attention to Aoba, aren’t you?”

A shocked sound leaks from my lips. I don’t know how to respond. He’s right. But I don’t want to admit it.

“So— _who_ is actually receiving my attention now?” His voice purrs into my ear. “In fact, _who_ is receiving a little _more_ attention than he can _handle_ at the moment?”

“Mmm,” I mumble. I don’t want to agree, but I can’t disagree. He’s manipulating me.

“So you have _no reason_ to be jealous. I just wanted Aoba to have something nice, too. And it case you’re wondering, _yes_ , you have the _same_  effect when you walk into a room as he does. The difference is, I won’t allow you to walk into a room _alone_. I don’t want you to affect people like that. I want to save you for _myself_ , as I don’t want to _share_. I want all your charms for _myself_.”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Bardo asks. “Let me guess. Is the little one having a _problem_?”

“What’s wrong, Konoe?” Aoba asks, leaning toward me across the table. He’s taken a seat directly across from the door, on the corner next to me. “Is it something I can help with?”

Bardo laughs out loud. “I doubt that, Aoba!”

I feel a tiny growl in my chest, and Rai gives me a tight hug—hugging my head to his chest and my bare thighs against his legs, pressing our bodies together—which makes me melt inside and both calms me down and heats me up at the same time.

This is going to be an uncomfortable evening. Is that what he is trying to do?

There’s a knock on the door and it opens. There stands a tall, strikingly handsome cat. This must be Aoba’s Koujaku. His hair and ears are so dark they look almost blue, and he has his hair pinned into a side ponytail with his long bangs dramatically sweeping over his right eye—which reminds me of Rai’s eyepatch. I flush slightly when I’m reminded of this.

His eyes are a deep reddish brown. He has an unusual scar across his nose, which, instead of marring his skin, adds to his handsome looks. He’s dressed in a red kimono with a floral pattern at the hem. He wears traditional martial arts-style bandages wrapped around his torso, leather fingerless gloves and a matching choker, and he’s carrying a giant sword strapped to his back.

He’s wearing a bright, friendly smile when he enters the room, and his face lights up even more when his eyes meet Aoba’s. His tail swishes back and forth in excitement and expectation. I find him incredibly attractive when he smiles like that—so much that I can’t help uttering a small sigh of admiration from my mouth. When I do, Rai jealously bites the tip of my ear.

“Tch!” I yelp, louder than I intend. It hurts! He _deserves_ to feel a little jealous now and then, too—and _I_ didn’t bite him for ogling Aoba! That’s hardly fair.

“Good evening,” Koujaku greets us, bowing low. He leans down to me at once and takes my hand, kissing it gently. His eyelashes are so long and dark—it’s like he’s a dark version of Rai. “You must be Konoe. Rai has told me all about you. He failed to mention how _adorable_ you are, however. I _think_ Icanunderstand why.” He gives me a sly wink with that handsome face, which makes me completely flustered. I feel Rai’s teeth nibbling against my ear again, more softly this time, but still threateningly. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m so glad to see you’re safe and recovering.”

“N-nice to meet you,” I stammer, embarrassed, wondering what Rai would have told a perfect stranger about me, and I wonder if he knows exactly why I’m recovering, heat flooding into my cheeks and ears.

“I’m Koujaku, the leader of Benishigure. Thanks for having me.”

Rai introduces him to the rest of the group, and Aoba stands up from his place at the table, walking toward the door. Koujaku politely nods to each of the new people he meets. When Aoba stands in front of him, Koujaku inhales sharply and says, “Aoba, it’s so good to see you. Rai told me a little of what happened. It seems I was misinformed, and I must have caused you some terrible suffering because I didn’t come after you. I’m so sorry.”

Aoba walks up to Koujaku and falls into his arms. “It’s all right now. I’ve never missed you so much in my entire life. I’ve had so much I’ve wanted to tell you.”

“Me, too,” Koujaku returns. “But we have all the time in the world now. I don’t feel like I have to drink so much anymore now that you’re here.”

“Let’s eat first, and then we can talk,” suggests Aoba.

“Aoba—“ Koujaku starts, when Aoba tries to pull away.

“Yes?”

“There’s something different about you.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t quite place it.” I _certainly_ know what it is. It’s his _scent_ —his Siren scent. He’s found it, and it’s in full blossom—like I’ve never experienced it before. Koujaku finds it difficult to look away from Aoba, and it’s painful for him to release Aoba from his arms. It’s a beautiful thing to see.

“Let’s eat,” Aoba smiles. He pulls him over to the empty place next to him, sitting down next to him.

Koujaku can’t take his eyes off the blue-haired cat, all through dinner. I wonder—do I _really_ have that sort of impact on those around me? I don’t think I do. I’m a little disappointed. But what can I do about it?

Several times during the meal, I catch Rai’s hand sneaking over to me, and I don’t mean snaking around my shoulders. He sneaks it up under my clothes—either on my leg or thigh, which I’ve politely folded beneath me, or else right up on my ass, nearly at the base of my tail. I notice Rai takes his time with the food—he doesn’t eat when the steaming hot plates are brought out, which I find rather curious. He slowly sips the local alcoholic beverage—some kind of rice wine called sake and watches me eat. Is he not hungry? Is he displeased with the food?

No, he _does_ eat, just not right away. It’s almost as though he is waiting for his food to get cold. But that would be ridiculous.

I don’t have to lean over to ask him, since he’s hovering in my space. I simply murmur, “Is the meal not to your liking?”

“Oh no, it’s perfectly adequate,” he replies, resting his head on his free elbow, simply watching me. It makes me rather uncomfortable, I have to admit.

“Why aren’t you eating, then?” I ask.

“I don’t have any free hands at the moment,” his low voice sounds a little hoarse when he responds. I _know_ that. I can feel his other hand grasping the base of my tail, and he gives it a little tug.

I’m about to take a spoonful of hot soup, and I accidentally drop it back into the bowl with a clatter, drawing all the eyes around the table to me. My face lights up pink, I feel my ears turning the same shade in an instant, and I look down in embarrassment. “Excuse me,” I apologize. I hate drawing attention to myself in this way. My cheeks are burning.

“I apologize,” Rai says, moving slightly from his spot at the table. He brushes my pink ears with the hand upon which he was just resting, as though to emphasize their color to everyone at the table. “No matter _what_ I do, I simply  _can’t_ train this little one to eat neatly.” His tone is a fake-sounding exasperation, and I am seriously annoyed by it. I glance up angrily, but when I do, he tightens the grip on my tail, making me flinch. It makes me look like I’ve dropped something else, making me look even _more_ clumsy.

He smiles down at me, his long pale lashes blinking slowly over that mischievous pale blue eye. I feel a rumble in my throat, and he leans down to kiss me.

I try to turn my head away, but I can’t—not with his hand on my tail like that. His hand slips down against my ass and I wince. I think he’s forgotten about how sore my skin is—or perhaps he hasn’t and he’s being cruel—and I groan softly into his mouth.

“Now, now,” says Bardo. “Let’s try to keep it under control while we’re at the table. I mean, I know you’ve been separated for an _entire_ day, but still. Keep it together for another half hour, if you can.” I hear a soft sound of fabric rustling, and Bardo says, “Ouch! Dammit, you brat! That _hurt_!”

“That’s what you get!” Ciel says. “I’ll pinch you _again_ if you misbehave.”

Koujaku laughs heartily, adding, “This isn’t at _all_ how I expected the infamous crew of _The Murderous Joy_ to behave! You guys seem like you have a lot of fun together.”

“Sure, _fun_ ,” I say, rather sourly, just before I feel Rai squeeze my ass. “Tch! Stop it!”

“What?” Rai asks innocently, taking a sip of soup—finally.

“Hasn’t your soup gone cold?” I ask. “Shall I ask them to bring you a new dish?”

Rai glances at me menacingly. I am taken aback slightly, shocked at his look. “I just thought you wouldn’t want cold soup,” I explain quietly, which only makes his look darker. Over his shoulder, I see Bardo making a strange cut-it-out symbol, running to fingers across his throat. He means I should stop talking? Shit. Too late now, I guess.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, scooting my body a little closer to the silver cat with the scary scowl on his face. I press my nose softly into his shoulder, asking for forgiveness, and submitting to him in a very public way. 

He pats my head indulgently and continues eating, but seriously, what was _that_ about?

I let my mind wander as he, Koujaku and Bardo discuss business. I’m not interested. I don’t want to hear about Mink. I exchange looks with Aoba, sometimes rather suggestive ones, across the table. I also exchange funny faces with Ciel, making sure _not_ to get caught by Rai. If he does catch me, I can _immediately_ tell. Rai apparently only needs one hand to eat, and that cat is weirdly ambidextrous! I’m sitting at his right side, and he can use silverware with either hand, it seems, because his right hand keeps showing up places it does _not_ belong and is _not_ wanted.

The meal drags on and on, and I am _rather_ worked up by the end, breathing faster than I’d like, sweating, and wondering what to do with myself.

“ _Dinner plans_ , little one,” I hear whispered right into my ear once more. What the fuck does he mean by that? He should have kept his hands to himself in that case!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their dinner plans, Rai and Konoe reconnect.
> 
> Consensual sexual activity here--for the most part, kinky kitty stuff. Some painful wound cleaning. All terribly unrealistic.

We’re walking back to Rai’s room after dinner—well, I’m _trying_ to walk, but Rai is leaning on me, grabbing me, pulling my arm, doing strange things to my body. And honestly, I’ve had a _little_ too much of the local alcoholic drink this evening. It turns out, sake is _delicious_! Koujaku persuaded me to try it during dinner, pouring me glass after glass. It’s served in such small portions—he called them “Konoe-sized,” which irritated me—but I was _sure_ I could handle it. He also reached out to stroke my ears a few times during dinner, which, I noted, was accompanied each time by a dark look shot toward me from Aoba, as well as a frightening, low growl from the silver beast perched next to me.

I’m swaying slightly by the time dinner is over. Rai takes advantage of this, sweeping me off my feet in the middle of the hallway, hoisting me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I let out an indignant cry as he does this. I’m hanging upside down, totally disoriented, but I can feel his hands feeling me up as he carries me—and strangely, they are _not_ outside my clothes. I squirm, and that only makes his hands move _more_ intimately, sliding between my cheeks.

“Are you _really_ resisting me so much?” Rai asks once we enter his room, sliding the door closed behind him. He sets me down on the bed, leaning over me, his hair falling on either side of my body, resting on his elbows. “I’ve been trying to tease you out of this foul mood since dinner. I’ve fear you’ve been traumatized and won’t permit me to come close to you again.”

His face is serious, his pale blue eye examining me closely, full lips pressed together in a line.

“The thought of what was _done_ to you—hell, the thought of doing that to _anyone_ is horrible—but doing it to _you_ , a Siren— _my_ Siren—whose gifts trend in _that_ direction—it chills me to the bone. I feel such _rage_ when I think of another person laying hands on you— _rage_. I didn’t even like that Benishigure leader laying hands on your ears during dinner. And it wasn’t only the  _one_ time, either.”

His hands float possessively toward my ears as he speaks. His voice is so quiet, all his teasing from earlier in the evening disappeared, a shocking change. He’s _so_ serious. I hadn’t realized he’s been trying to change my mood, and I feel guilty for how coldly I treated him during dinner.

I reach my hand up to his face, touching his cheek, and he catches it in his, allowing me to stroke him softly.

“I’m sorry for my behavior and sour mood during dinner,” I say, my voice soft, apologetic. “Honestly, I am a little...” I don’t want to use the word “traumatized,” since it’s too heavy, but since it _is_ the most descriptive I simply skip the word altogether and leave a short pause in my sentence, hoping he will catch my meaning. “... since spending time with, er,” I catch myself again, realizing I don’t want to say Mink’s name, either, “… spending time in _that_ place.”

I take a deep breath and realize my body is shaking. I’m covered in sweat, just from thinking about it. Rai doesn’t look pleased, and I look at him helplessly. I feel awful for bringing it up.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurt, tears pricking my eyes, my throat burning. “I don’t mean to ruin your efforts, and I feel like I have! You’ve been trying to cheer me up this evening, and I haven’t realized it. I didn’t know how to respond. I don’t know how to control my body’s response in a roomful of people yet, and I—well, I _am_ hesitant to connect with you.”

“You are _hesitant_ —what? Why? Do you fear pain? We don’t have to do anything that might hurt you, little one. In fact, I was _considering_ letting you take the lead,” he still has his hand covering mine, the one on his cheek, and he pulls it down against his neck and throat, stroking his chest, his abdomen, all the way down to his belly, and I gasp, trying to pull away, when he gives me a pained look, as if his feelings are hurt.

“No,” I protest quietly, almost desperately.

“You _aren’t_ afraid I might hurt you?” His voice rumbles lowly, changing to a slightly threatening tone. “Perhaps you _should_ be.”

Maybe because I tried pulling my hand away, he takes both my hands—almost tenderly—and pins them to the mattress above my head, using just one of his. It appears to take no effort to hold me down, as usual. His strength easily overpowers mine.

“Little one, you _should_ be afraid of me. I don’t know why, but I _cannot_ control myself around you.” A shiver runs through my body when I hear those words from the large silver cat hovering above me, and his nose dives into my neck. He inhales deeply, tickling me, sending shiver after shiver down my body. “It’s your enticing scent. It calls to me,” his voice is quiet, low, rumbling with a growl. His fangs bare just before his lips crash against my mouth. The entire length of his body covers mine, and I can feel he’s excited—as excited as I am—and my quivering intensifies.

Kissing Rai feels like _home_ to me, and the tears threatening to fall sneak down my cheeks when our lips meet. Feeling his body so close to mine again feels _so_ good, so comforting, and I realize that yes, he _could_ hurt me, but he _never_ would—unless I wanted him to.

I feel his hand run through my hair, down my back, and to the base of my tail, where he brushes my fur backward, massaging it with rough motions, and I moan into his mouth. I want to touch him, I want to run my fingers through his hair. And oddly, I want to _groom_ him—I want to groom his _tail_ —but he’s pinned my hands to the bed and won’t permit me to move.

I beg through the kiss—speaking into his mouth, asking for permission to touch—fighting for permission to move. It comes out like, “Pl-mmphf—mmmm—aaamm—waannn—to—to—ch—yoummmpf,” which sounds ridiculous, pleading, begging. I feel his teeth smiling, those pointy fangs, at my attempts to speak.

“What is this,” his not-question is directed at me. “You don’t want me to restrain you?”

“No.” I’m quite serious, tears on my face and more threatening to fall. “It _frightens_ me. Didn’t you say you’d let _me_ take the lead? Please?”

“Hmm.” He appears to consider, but he’s already decided. “We will do _whatever_ you like, whatever _you’re_ comfortable with, little one.” I feel his hand releasing my wrists, and dropping to my ears, fondling the piercing briefly, then touching the soft, white downy fur inside, which tickles me, and makes the ear twitch and lift my shoulder up in defense.

Immediately, I jump onto Rai, flipping him onto his back, straddling him. He must have allowed this since I don’t have the strength to move him myself. Looking down at him, I carefully bend over his head to kiss his ears—they are an elegant rounded shape, so unlike my large pointed ones. And they are pure white, covered in thick, silky fur, with even softer fur inside. I groom them to my heart’s content, starting with his left—kissing, licking, even nipping softly, holding his head against my chest.

In turn, Rai deftly unties my obi, opens my yukata, and starts bathing my chest with his tongue. He’s paying close attention to my nipples and their piercings, playing with them, circling them with his tongue, making me purr and sigh with pleasure. But if he isn’t careful, he may pull or nip too hard, and that will cause me to bite his sensitive ears in return.

I have a _need_ to groom him _right_ _now_ , and after finishing both ears, I start on his long hair, running my claws through the silky strands, using my mouth and tongue, too, moving around to the top of his head, and then to his back.

I realize this puts me in a somewhat awkward position, but I _want_ to groom that bushy tail. It’s currently bristled, swishing back and forth, thumping against the bed— _Is he nervous? Maybe he should be!_ So I start with the tip, holding it gently in my hands like he does mine. I want _him_ to feel good, too, and I remember his reaction before our so-called “dinner plans.”

When I pop the tip in my mouth, I feel him shiver—that’s a wonderful reaction, but I want _more_. So I start grooming, long, slow strokes with my tongue, approaching the base, and his shivering becomes more intense, and eventually, I hear some heated breathing and sighing which he tries to suppress and gulp down.

I’m liking this, though I don’t want him suppressing his responses. I keep it up, till I get to the very base of his tail, and then I untie his obi and slip my hands inside, grabbing his cock—which, to my surprise, is already at full attention.

At this point, I feel him twist my body around, so I’m lying on my side next to him, my legs in the direction of his head—when I feel a lovely, amazing wet sensation suddenly engulf my own cock. I’m taken completely by surprise, and I look down my body in time to see Rai has taken me into his mouth—and I’m overcome with the sensation. My body starts reacting on its own, offering its own response, submitting to Rai’s touches and ministrations.

My will to resist his caresses has disappeared—and my mind is brought back to his chambers on the ship. My mind seems to be brought back there _before_ the assault, simply by the gentle touch of his hands and his aggressive partaking of his mouth—and I flinch a little when I feel his fangs catch on my most sensitive parts. I feel a claw against the front of my thigh—but he’s careful not to touch the back of my thighs like that, though he does occasionally run his hands across my welted skin.

I can feel a growl in his throat—it’s not a purr—most _definitely_ a growl—when he touches my skin like that. It’s terrifying and amazing to have him sucking on my most sensitive part while growling at the same time. He does _indeed_ frighten me, but my fear is taken over by the Siren in me, all at once.

If he’s going to be like _that_ , my mind switches gears. I also take his cock into my mouth, while still massaging the tip of his tail with one hand, bringing the other to its base. I expect I should be able to give him a hands-free blow job this way—except I’ve miscalculated. I’ve only been away from him for a day or two, and already I’ve forgotten the sheer size difference between us. I’ll need the use of at least one hand—he just won’t fit in my mouth.

We are both on our sides at this point, but when I take him into my mouth, he groans and growls even louder and pins me down over him, being careful not to squash me. I nuzzle my face in the white tuft of fur at his navel when I withdraw him all the way from my mouth to lick just the tip, intending to tease him, which elicits another growl. The sound is terrifying—it isn’t enough stimulation for him. I feel him lowering himself into my mouth, and _that_ frightens me— _I could gag, it could be hard to breathe_ —but I _love_ it—it’s exhilarating—and the purr in the back of my throat won’t stop.

I hear him call my name from above me. “Konoe,” when he feels the purring in the back of my throat against his cock, and it sends a ripple of pleasure through my body. I’m still mostly teasing him, and he wants _more_ and harder stimulation—I can tell by how hard he starts sucking me—and I finally give in.

“Ssso impasshient...” the words sound weird when my mouth is full, and he answers, his voice in a snarl.

“You’ve been _teasing_ me since dinner, haven’t you? Such a _cruel_ kitten you are.” If the rumbling part of his voice wasn’t there, I’d think his feelings really were hurt. That growl seems to be calming down to a purr. “Are you going to _sing_ for me tonight? _Sing for me_ , Konoe.”

When he says those words, I feel something straining deep inside me—is it a song? He pulls me out of position, turning me around on the bed, grabbing my hands and restraining them against my sides. Instead, he faces me and kisses me gently on the lips—just gently, teasing—once, then twice, three times—gently enough so I want more, leaning up to follow him when he pulls away.

He has a smile on his face—a soft, teasing smile—which makes me nervous. He moves my hands over my head and holds them in place, and I feel something smooth against them—he has tied them together with the obi and tied the obi to the bed frame.

"There,” he states with satisfaction in his voice, and still smiling, he looks down at me and licks my ear. I shiver helplessly. _Wait a minute—I’m naked!_ _When did he take off my yukata?_ I didn’t even _feel_ it! He is slipping his shoulders out of his right now as well, and I realize he hasn’t been wearing anything underneath his either.

“These are pretty wonderful items of clothing, don’t you agree?” Rai asks. I watch admiringly, and think out loud, “I wonder if Aoba and Koujaku are doing this right now? You did an amazing job choosing a yukata for him. I didn’t realize you were observing him _that_ closely.” My voice sounds jealous when these words come out, and Rai looks a little surprised.

“Little one, you bring this up _now_? Are you _still_ thinking about this?”

“Well, you even knew what color _eyes_ he had! I’m a fellow Siren, and I’m not sure I could tell you that without looking.” I’m _definitely_ still jealous.

I feel his hand caress my chest, playing with the chain between my nipples. “Are you _sure_ this is a conversation you want to have with me _right now_? Even while you’re so _helpless_? So _vulnerable_? In _this_ position?” He gives the chain a little tug, and my body responds instantly.

“Hmmpf.” It’s all I can say. I look away from him.

“Remind me. _Who_ was it who was drooling all over Koujaku when he entered the room? So much that he couldn’t even _speak_ without stammering?” Now it’s Rai’s voice that’s laced with jealousy.

“That was _only_ because he did some unexpected weird kissing thing to my hand and said weird things to me—I _just_ got flustered,” I make an excuse. And the words keep coming, foolishly. “And honestly, I _only_ think he’s attractive because he reminds me of what _you_ would look like if you had darker coloring. _And_ if you smiled more, perhaps. But I _like_ that you save your smiles for me. It makes them special.” I gasp suddenly. I hadn’t meant to say _any_ of this.

“What?” Rai looks at me suddenly, a shocked expression on his face. I look away again, refusing to meet his eyes. Even when he tilts my chin in his direction, I drop my eyes. He licks my throat to get my attention, and the shock of that sensation works. “You were attracted to him because he reminds you of _me_?”

“Mmm.” I assent quietly, looking at him for a moment before I look away. My ears are heating up in embarrassment. “If you weren’t so blindingly _silver_. He even covers one of his eyes, using his bangs instead of an eyepatch. And his smile lights up the room—like yours does.”

“What?” Rai is smiling when he says this, and I cannot look away. “ _Konoe_.”  
  
I _have_ to look at him when he says my name. I wonder if he knows that I have to obey him when he says my name. Has he figured this out yet?

“You _like_ it when I say your name, don’t you, Konoe?” A little shiver goes through my body this time, and I see he notices this. He’s practically sitting on top of me, and he glances up to my pink ears. His hands stroke them gently. “You save these adorable blushes for me, don’t you?”

Leaning down over me, he licks the ear with the piercing, cleaning the hoop, the piercing, then inserting his long tongue into my ear. I try to lift up my shoulder to protect myself from the intrusive feeling—it’s so loud, so squishy-sounding, but it makes me melt. I feel even more blood rushing to my ears, and it makes them even pinker—just from him talking about it.

“Why don’t you just relax for a moment, _Konoe_?” Shit. He _does_ know. I _have_ to obey him. I let my shoulder fall to the side, allowing him to lick my ear—permitting that strange intrusive feeling of his tongue, and I relax, another shiver running through my body, and I can tell he is smiling from the way he is holding his body.

I can’t move from where I am—my arms feel restrained again. The Siren part of me speaks in my head, _It’s for_ his _sake. He_ wants _you restrained. Just permit it._ Allow _it. Relax and enjoy it. He’s still letting you take the lead in some respects. Just be vocal if he does something you do not like or if it’s painful._

“I missed you,” I say suddenly, completely surprised by the words coming out of my mouth. My eyes are open wide, and I have no idea who is speaking. “I knew if I called you, you would come for me. You will _never_ abandon me, will you?” My voice sounds so strange—it’s musical, the quality reverberates through the room strangely. It’s _not_ my voice.

Rai stops licking my ears for a moment, cups my chin in his hand, and tilts my head in his direction. He’s looking into my eyes earnestly. It looks like his eyes are shining—there’s a glassy look in them—they can’t be tears, can they? Ugh—not tears! I want to say, _Don’t cry!_ I want to reach out to him, but I can only struggle beneath the restraints, and I cannot speak. _Shush_ , the voice speaks to me. _I’ll only be a moment_.

“His body was severely damaged while he was in Mink’s headquarters, my silver cat, Rai,” the strange voice continues, I feel myself blink slowly. “Also, he may not be aware, but he has been _severely_ traumatized by the events there as well. He perhaps hasn’t processed what he has seen. And there is still at least one woman there, Mana, who needs your help. You will rescue her, won’t you? She has the seed of a Siren implanted in her. Normally, regular coupling doesn’t produce a Siren. However, because this little one was there—and those things were done to him in the same room—plus the female submitted her body willingly to the other Siren, it seemed to take.” 

“What?” Rai is appalled. “Are you sure?”

“This little one can’t tell, but I have seen enough so that I can be sure. I’ve never seen a Siren impregnated in that way before. The pregnancy will go smoothly—as most Siren births do. The mother belongs with the other pair. I believe that pair belongs together as soulmates and should raise the child. It will also have the Siren traits.” The words coming from my mouth are fascinating and frightening. “You must keep this little one away from Mink. I fear he will come for him. He heard my song—I had no choice but to interfere during a severe beating, and I sang in front of Mink in order to save this little one. But I fear I may have created an obsession. And then, there’s the other cat, your former crewman, Sin. He feels he is owed an evening with me.”

“He’s owed an evening…?” Rai looks amazed by the words falling from my lips.

I try to take over my own mouth, and again, I hear, _Shush. Little one, I am trying to_ help _you. Just listen. You’re terrible at relaxing and listening. Let me_ help _you_.

“Keep him away from those two monsters, for both your sakes. And _save_ the female. Please. You must return for her, or the unborn Siren will be at risk.”

“You know I would do anything you ask. Anything either of you asks.” Rai pauses a moment, putting his hands against my ears rather reverently. “Should I kill Mink?” I see fangs protruding from those beautiful lips, and I feel myself lifting my head from the bed, and reaching up to touch those fangs with my tongue. Rai lowers his head slightly, perhaps expecting a kiss, but receiving instead a lick—I think that was both the Siren _and_ me—licking his pearly white fangs.

“It isn’t for me to decide,” the voice continues. “I don’t prefer death. It’s such a permanent state for your kind. Do as you see fit. I trust you.”

“Your voice… why does it echo like that?” Rai asks. “I hear you in my ears, but also in my head, in my heart, and in my body.”

“It’s part of our connection,” the Siren answers. “When this little one needs you, he can call you like this as well. And you, too, can call to him in this way. When you call his name, he must respond to you. He must _obey_ your words.”

“What? Really?” Another shocked expression appears on Rai’s face.

“He is unable to disobey you if you call his name.” _Damn you, Siren, for telling him that_. “That is all I have for you today. I promised him I wouldn’t take over the evening. He _needs_ you. He probably needs you to _use his name_ today.”

“What do you mean?” Rai looks a little confused—and then, suddenly, comprehension crosses his face. That frightens me because I _don’t_ understand.

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” I’m genuinely afraid when I ask him. “What are you going to _make_ me do?”

First, he releases me from the obi restraints, tied on my wrists. I’m so relieved and shocked, tearfully looking up at his expression.

“Konoe, _don’t_ be afraid. I am _not_ going to hurt you. I want to make you feel _good_. Do you understand?”

When the words enter my ears, they feel like his tongue—squishy, wet, and intrusive, but _so_ sexy they make me melt. I can hardly respond, but he’s asked, so I mumble quietly, looking up at his eyes, while rubbing my wrists with my hands, “Yes, I understand.”

“Konoe, will you _trust_ me? I want you to _relax_. Don’t move your body. Just _relax_. Let me do the work tonight.”

Ah—he said it again. I have to answer him—a soft “yes” falls from my lips. I’m a fool to trust him, though. My ears twitch, and I have the urge to scratch them, and I want to groom them quickly. I lick my hands, running through the downy part of my ears, the part that those words just flowed through like honey. Then my body settles down, leaving my ears twitching only slightly.

“Close your eyes.”

He hasn’t said my name, but I obey anyway—for the most part. I want to watch, so I peek occasionally. He caresses my chest and nipples with one hand—playing with the piercings. His eye, when I see it, looks so possessive. Like I belong to him. His mouth comes down, his tongue excessively laving my chest, wrapping itself around each nipple in turn, his teeth pulling on the jewels. I shiver under his fingers, but I’m not afraid. The touches are pleasurable—immensely pleasurable.

His other hand travels further south, till it reaches my tail. He’s toying with the hooked part of my tail, which drives me more than a little crazy—but he’s commanded me to relax, to lie still, not to move. So instead, I hear noises coming out of my mouth—sighs of pleasure, groans, and moans, much to my embarrassment. Occasionally, he brings my tail to his mouth, like I was just doing to his, and he licks it, which sends shocking ripples of pleasure up my spine.

I’m not physically restrained, but it feels like I am. I cannot move from this place. I am able to lift my hands up, however, and I run them through that beautifully soft, silky hair—occasionally grabbing handfuls and pulling if he gets too rough—but mostly softly combing through it, mesmerized by its silky, shimmering texture, brushing against my bare skin, which covers my naked body.

Occasionally, I try to grab his tail, which is swishing nervously back and forth, I think to escape my grasp. The only thing I can move is my arms—I can’t sit up, I can’t even stretch—so when I do get hold of it, he winces slightly in anticipation—I wonder, is he really that sensitive to touches on his tail? _How could I have not noticed this before?_ I am so careful with it—I am gentle, I lick it so gently, and my tongue has a _much_ softer texture than his—so I know it must make him feel good.

I know it does, too, since I can hear him rumbling with pleasure against my chest, and he’s moving a little lower, to my belly— _oh no—not there!_ I’m so ticklish there, but I can’t escape! My abdomen caves inward slightly, trying to avoid his touches, and I hear his sexy voice again, echoing strangely when spoken so close to my skin, and so close to my private parts it makes me quiver.

“Konoe, you will relax your body, even if this tickles you. This is meant to _pleasure_ you. You will experience the ultimate pleasure from these sensations. _Relax_ , and let me pleasure you.”

Oh gods, hearing those words from his mouth—my ears flatten, my claws draw, my fangs bare, and my tail fluffs out, but my stomach completely relaxes against the bed, submitting itself to his will. I can see by his posture that he is _mightily_ pleased. I still have my hands on his tail, however, and I don’t let go. I continue my long, gentle strokes, and I hear him purring lowly—and then his nose pushes against my belly button and the soft tuft of fur below my navel.

“Konoe, you are so _soft_ here. This fur is silky and lush, just like the downy fur inside those lovely ears of yours. I need to lather some attention on it.”  
  
Hearing those words makes me draw my knees up on the bed, and I curl my toes in delight, quivering and clawing the bed.

“Ah—but did you forget? You’re supposed to be _relaxed_ here, darling _Konoe_.” His voice is dangerous but sounds so playful and so powerful.

 _Now, he’s just taking advantage_. And as quickly as my knees came up, they lower themselves back to the bed—and I grunt in near pain doing so, releasing my claws in discomfort. I cannot easily relax them when he’s touching me like this.

And then I feel the Siren inside me. He reminds me, _This is_ Rai _. This is_ your _giant silver cat, from long ago who is touching you, calling to you. Every time he calls your name, it’s as if the call has traversed the world, the continent, the universe, to reach your ears, to your heart, to touch your very soul. He’s_ yours _. This is_ your _cat. For his_ entire _life, he_ belongs _to_ you _._

With that thought in mind, I give his tail another long, languorous lick, and then I bite the tip of it soundly, using all my teeth. This catches his attention immediately, and an amazing, extremely erotic-sounding grunt falls from the lips currently attacking my belly button, and the giant cat freezes, looking up at me. That sound was _beautiful_. I bite again—pulling his tail through my teeth when I do, so I know the skin catches a little on my fangs. The sound repeats, and it’s breath-taking. I’ve never _heard_ him make a noise like this, not without at least trying to suppress it.

His gaze at me is one of shock. “What do you _think_ you are doing?”

My voice, laced with as much eroticism as I can muster—and it’s a _lot_ , thanks to the Siren, I have to admit—comes across in a honeyed tone. “Nothing at all. I’m simply grooming you. Don’t you _like_ it? It _sounds_ like you like it quite a lot.”

I feel a hand suddenly grab the base of my tail, and I grunt in response. “Hey, what are _you_ doing?”

“Nothing at all,” Rai responds, keeping his eye on me.

I repeat the same biting/grooming motion as I was doing, and in addition to the erotic sound, I feel a shiver from the giant cat below me.

“See, I was right. You _do_ quite like it, don’t you?” I ask playfully, in a quiet tone, as if I’m doing nothing more than simply grooming his ears. “Unless—do you want me to _stop_?”

I realize there’s a quiet hum coming from my body as well. I can’t hear much of it, but as usual, the song is directed toward Rai. He’s _completely_ mesmerized, frozen, unable to continue teasing my body.

He can’t speak. I’ve _never_ seen him like this. Well, I saw him like this once. On deck, when he was claiming me. I chuckle slightly, wickedly, and up my game a little more. Instead of a single bite to the tip of the tail, I use my jaw and bite several times over the length of the tail, when running it through my mouth, but _ever_ so slowly, all the while I use my tongue and my lips, lots of saliva, _and_ I maintain eye contact with him. I want to see his expression.

Strangely, the song increases in pace and volume as well—and Rai realizes that, too, and is completely overcome. He allows himself to float away in the melody and my touch of his tail.

The noise that comes out of his mouth is amazing. He melts into my lap in a way that I’ve never felt before. I just _love_ it!

“Konoe…” And he says my name! It sends a shiver down my spine, and so I do it again, the song increasing in intensity.

I have a giant silver beast writhing in my lap, even though I’m unable to move, and he’s making the most delightful sounds I’ve heard in all my life. And I do it one more time, this time, biting a little harder, moving even _more_ slowly, and trapping him by squeezing my legs together so he can’t move in my lap. He has to stay where he is while he’s watching me suck, bite and groom his tail.

“K-k-konoe!” He cries out—and this time his cry is desperate. _Oh my gods, is he coming?_

I realize his body is shaking, quivering, and then I feel something damp on my legs right when he yells, and his face changes slightly—his breathing shifts, and I’m actually _watching_ him climax— _just_ from what I’ve been doing to his tail. The elation makes me tremble with delight. It only increases the song coming from my body, which changes _again_ to something softer, something more gentle, something more tender.

The passion in Rai’s eye is definitely still there, even after his climax, but the tension in his body—his neck, his shoulders, his torso, his back—has dissolved. I reach out to touch him with my hands, but I can barely reach. Instead, I pull his body in toward mine, pulling him into a tight embrace and a deep kiss, which is surprising passionate—he invades my mouth with his tongue—fangs still drawn, in fact, but he is careful not to bite me. I can feel such relief in his body, however—and it gives me such joy, such pleasure. I feel such power to have had that effect on him.

While he’s kissing me, he uses the result of his climax to lubricate my cock and stroke me—quite suddenly—causing me to moan into his mouth, which makes him kiss me even more deeply. He also grabs the base of my tail, massaging it and pushing the fur in the opposite direction. I long to feel something inside me, but I’m still so sore, so I’m glad he leaves that part of me alone.

The stroking is enough—and it’s perfect. He doesn’t bother to start slow—it’s fast and hard—and all while he is taking my mouth. I can feel his fluffy tail wrap around my ass—it’s so soft, brushing me so softly, so gently, just barely there, making shivers run down my spine.

I climax when he takes my mouth particularly deeply, massages my tail particularly firmly, brushes my ass with his tail, and has stroked me rather hard all at the same time—and I hear a deep, possessive growl from his throat—and a sighing purr from mine. Because I’m so relaxed, I let my defenses down and sink into the feeling—keeping my eyes open—but the corners of my vision still go completely white just the same—and a wonderful, loud sound is released from my mouth just the same—a huge pleasurable wave sweeps through my body—starting from my cock and running all through me in a wonderful shiver.

Allowing myself to relax—relax and be taken like that—it was a good idea. He means well. But also, I learned Rai loves having his tail groomed. I mean, he _really_ loves to have his tail groomed. That has given me some ammo to use during our next “dinner plans,” I think.

My body feels a bit sticky—covered with sweat and fluids—after we are finished, and Rai cleans me up gently with a small bucket of water.

“Bardo mentioned your wounds need to be cleaned several times a day as well,” Rai says, his voice soft.

“I can do it myself!” I protest, not wanting him to see the damage done to me—though I’m sure he’s been close enough to see all of it now.

“Konoe,” his voice rings in my ears, yet again. “I think you will let me take care of your injuries. It’s my job, you know. You are my responsibility.”

How often is he going to use this? I can’t deny him now. I look up at him, somewhat tearfully.

“What is with that _face_ , kitten?” Rai’s voice is full of genuine concern. “Do you really not want me to touch you? Tell me what you need.”

“I—I-i don’t want you t-to see the damage d-done to me,” I confess.

“I know the damage was severe,” Rai says. “There’s no need to hide from me.”

I pause for a moment. Then Rai lifts the towel to start cleansing my skin, and I flinch, and the tears start flowing. I cannot disobey, but I can cry.

“I don’t want to disgust you!” I cry. “I’m afraid if you see the extent of the damage you won’t want to touch me again. You’ll be too disgusted.”

Rai drops the towel back into the bucket and takes my face with both of his hands. He meets my gaze firmly.

“Konoe. _Nothing_ about you could _ever_ disgust me. Do you understand me? Nothing. There is nothing anyone could _ever_ do to you that would make me feel differently toward you. You are my Siren. I am yours. Do you understand?”

The tears rolling down my face turn to relief, and my heart feels at ease when he says these words. Is it only because he used my name? I don't care at this point. I only want the relief.

“I understand,” I sniffle.

He uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “This is a handy tool, I have to confess.”

“Maybe you should be careful not to use it too much,” I suggest.

“You, _hush_. Relax, lie down. I’m cleaning these wounds.” I feel my body responding on its own again. Is this just with Rai? Or with anyone who calls my name, I wonder. I hope it only works with Rai, and that he never tells another soul.

“I _love_ myself an obedient slave,” I hear murmured over my shoulder, flinching, wincing, and crying as the salt water rinses my wounds. It really hurts! Several times a day?

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. “Can’t you make it not hurt?”

“Well, it’s an antiseptic solution to prevent infection, so I don’t think so,” comes his matter-of-fact response.

“Not what I meant,” I’m breathing hard. And that last place is going to hurt so much! “You can just tell me it won’t hurt.”

“Can I?”

“Please!” I’m begging for all it’s worth, as I feel the cloth approaching my entrance. “ _Please_ , oh please!”

And then I remember something the Siren said. I call him. “Please, _Rai_!” With my whole being, I call his name. Once. Then twice. “ _Rai_ , please!” And once more for good measure, “Oh, _Rai_ , I’ll do anything!”

I feel the cloth stop on my thigh, just before my sit spot, and it’s burning like hell against the welts. I turn my head, craning around to look at his face, and he’s frozen—he looks like I feel when he calls my name.

I whisper quietly, but with the same desperation, “Oh, Rai, _please_ , just tell me it won’t hurt!” I know tears are sparkling on my lashes.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try it, I suppose. Konoe, this won’t hurt you. This will help heal you.” His voice trembles a little, but hearing it, I can relax into the bed, and I feel a quiet hum in my body—a protective hum—covering my body—just before the cloth touches my entrance.

Instead of the absolute burning sensation I thought I’d feel, instead I see stars in the back of my eyelids—but no pain. I feel warm water dripping inside me, and gods, I think, is he going to insert a finger back there? _Please no—_

Just water. It’s just a cloth and warm water. No pain. I’m enveloped in warmth, in his caring touch, and in song—which _mesmerizes_ him.

He leans in toward my ear and whispers softly, “You know, you’re _just_ as beautiful as ever. I’m afraid I might not be able to wait till your stitches come out, Konoe.” And he keeps both hands on me when he speaks, so he can feel the shiver that runs through my body.

After he cleans me off, he gently applies the cooling salve to the welts on my skin—and I hear him growling a little when he sees them. The salve feels good, however—it doesn’t burn, much to my relief, and I find myself exhausted, sinking into the sheets. I hear him grumbling and muttering about marking up his property—not realizing at first that he’s talking about _me_.

“Come now, little one,” he says, gently pulling me back into his arms. I stretch and yawn. “Let me groom you.”

I complain a little, but still allow him to groom my ears—and fall asleep before he reaches my tail. I intend to do his tail when he gets to mine, but I don’t make it that far.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe awakes to an empty bed and shares breakfast with Aoba, who offers to help with Konoe’s wound care. They get a bit of a surprise when they return to their room, however.
> 
> Trigger warning: rape and non-con activities, featuring Mink and his crew.

The next morning, when I awake alone. I find it a little discouraging when Rai isn’t here with me. However, I get dressed on my own, unable to drape my yukata very well by myself, but I manage. When I head out—ever so slowly, due to the various aches and pains in my body—to the dining area, I come across Aoba. He is looking even brighter than yesterday, but I want to know about Rai. Where did he go?

“Oh, he, Bardo and Koujaku went out early this morning. I think they took the two crew mates with them as well,” Aoba explains. “Have you eaten? The breakfast here is great! How are your wounds? Do you need help caring for them this morning? I’ll help you after you eat. Sit—let me prepare you a plate.”

He’s eager to please, full of energy, sparkling with happiness. I know he experienced my pain, but he must not share the injuries. I’m glad. While I’m eating, he explains how after dinner, he and Koujaku sat staring at the night sky together, and Aoba had a long conversation with him, confessing his love in the way he’d always wanted. Of course, as I had guessed, his love is reciprocated. The evening went splendidly, and since their feelings have been mutual for some time, he will be staying with Koujaku from now on. He’s delighted!

“And Konoe—I think I discovered one of my Siren gifts! I finally sang—for Koujaku!” He sounds some excited to tell me this. “You’re right when you say you don’t really control the song. It’s like there’s another being living inside you. I was very surprised at the timing. It was sort of strange.”

I ask, “Strange? What do you mean?” Instantly, I regret the question when I see his face. I smile. “Oh! It was a song for Koujaku, wasn’t it? If it was, I can guess when you sang. You don’t have to tell me. Did he know about your gifts as a Siren?”

“Well, he does now! I just didn’t feel like it was a great time for that to come up.”

“I have some interesting news. My Siren told Rai he has to rescue Mana from Mink. Is that where they went?”

“Really? She’s his slave! That would be considered stealing here on this island. Why would he have to do that? I mean, I know she isn’t well-treated, but why?”

“I’m glad you’re sitting down, Aoba. Well, my Siren said, using my mouth—er—has your Siren _spoken_ yet?” I hesitate before getting to the point.

“Um, yes. To Koujaku directly. It’s even weirder than singing!”

“So you understand this is not something _I_ said. Please listen, Aoba. Mana is pregnant. With _your_ child. And it has inherited Siren capabilities because of what Mink did in that room. It is difficult to pass on Siren qualities, but apparently it worked because Mana was willing and also because of me—because there were two Sirens present at the time, both being sexually stimulated. I guess willingness isn’t a requirement for the Sirens.”

Aoba looks at me absolutely flabbergasted.

“Yes, and that is your child. Mana should deliver just fine, but my Siren thinks the child belongs with you and Koujaku and should be raised by you.”

“Well, why didn’t they take us along to help?” Aoba is indignant. “I know the layout better than anyone!”

“It’s my fault, probably. I’m sorry.” I drop my eyes to my plate of food. “There is some concern that I shouldn’t be around Mink or Sin. They have it out for me.”

I pause for a moment. I should tell him what I learned yesterday. “Aoba, did you know, if Koujaku is your soulmate, he can command you.”

“What? _Command_ me?” Aoba is taken aback.

“Haven’t you noticed a sort of funny feeling when he calls your name?”

“Uh. Umm... yeah, actually. And only with him. It’s weird.”

“I should tell you, I found out yesterday that when Rai calls my name, he can command me to obey him—and I cannot disobey. However, he can make me not feel pain, if he tells me something won’t hurt, after calling my name, oddly enough. And I have the power to influence him as well, if I call his name whole-heartedly.”

“Wow. OK. That’s good to know. I don’t know if I should share this information or not!” Aoba says, “Are you finished eating? Let’s take care of your wounds.”

He takes me arm and walks me back to the room, helping me up to the bed. I’m already exhausted, and I lie down on my stomach to wait for him to return with the salt water and cloth. He closes the door behind him when he enters and gently lifts up my yukata. The welts on my thighs aren’t as sore today, so they only sting a little bit.

Before he reaches my butt, however, the door slides open. I don’t think too much about it at first, but then I realize I’m naked, and I think id better cover myself. Plus, Aoba has stopped working. Before I get a chance to look up, I feel someone jumping in top of me, pinning my arms and legs to the bed. I am promptly gagged, much to my surprise, which fills me with trepidation.

“Hmmmpf!” It’s all I can manage. Looking around, for Aoba, I see he is restrained in the same way.

I know who it is now, even without looking: Mink. Sin is with him—dragging a young female beside him. Spots, the cat who assaulted me, is right here, too, sitting next to me on the bed. My stomach turns over in my belly, and I feel sick.

Mink’s hands run over my body, turning me to my back, and works quickly to restrain my wrist cuffs to the headboard and my ankles to the footboard of the bed. I’m still in shock—how did they find me? How did they get in here so quickly? The vomit is rising precariously in my throat, and I’m filled with an anxiety like I’ve never known when I see the greedy look in Mink’s eyes. He opens his mouth, his hand under my chin.

“My sweet Sirens, how I’ve missed you! And how easy it was to find you both! Of course, Koujaku would come running for you,” he tilts his eyes in Aoba’s direction. “It was simple enough to discover where he spent his evening—and the night, it seems—last night, you lucky boy.”

I start to choke behind the gag, unable to control myself, fear overcoming my body, this previously unknown terror causing my limbs to tremble.

“You poor thing—you’re shaking like a leaf!” Mink looks down at my trembling body, giving me another long stroke, from my face all the way to my waist. To my horror, he slowly starts to untie my obi. I protest loudly, but only quiet, desperate sounds come out from behind the gag. Tears roll down my cheeks, and I find it hard to breathe. I can’t face this again—I _can’t_ face another assault. I’m shaking my head in desperation, begging with my eyes, with my body, and I feel a song rising in me—a desperate song—full of pleading, a melody like I’ve never heard before. It’s the Siren, begging for my life, begging for mercy.

Mink looks transfixed, twitching his ears to the tune. “There’s no need for you to worry so, little one,” he says, his voice almost tender, as he pulls the obi from my body, brushing the tears from my face. I twist my face violently to try to escape his touch, but he simply brings his hand down the length of my body once more—drawing it down my throat, to my collarbones, and slowly opening my yukata, letting it fall away from my body, leaving me exposed before his gaze. I scream in terror from behind my gag, but again, only a small desperate noise escapes my mouth.

“If you keep that up, you may pass out. Stop this struggle already, or I will punish you. I’ve brought my favorite implement.” He takes out his whip, which he lays across my exposed thighs.

The skin there is unmarred. I’ve never been whipped there before. But I _can’t_ get my fear under control. I’m terrified of this man—of what he has planned for me and also what he’s already done to me—and seeing the whip frightens me even more. I continue my struggle, and I watch helplessly as the whip comes flying down against my top of my legs with a loud snap.

The burning sensation is so severe that it travels both down into my knees—reaching all the way into my ankles—and upwards into my groin, private parts, and stomach. I have to stop my struggling for a moment, since I temporarily lose my breath, the wind completely knocked out of me from a single blow. When my breath returns, I can only cry bitterly in pain from behind the gag.

There’s nowhere for me to go. I’m defenseless, vulnerable, exposed. Aoba screams behind his gag as well—I realize if I don’t stop my struggling, he too will feel this punishment. I try to relax my body.

“There you go—my beautiful kitten,” Mink coos. “Such a wonderful song is coming from you. Do you really fear for your life? Your life isn’t what I have in mind to take from you today, however. In fact, I only want a _small_ thing from you, and Aoba will help me this time.”

I look up at him through my tears, desperation in my eyes. He can’t be serious! He can’t mean like last time, can he?

“Oh, I think you know how it goes,” Mink says. “We’re just reversing your roles this time. You will be the proud papa, Konoe.”

The hair stands up on the back of my neck in revulsion when I hear him say this, and I think I really might vomit.

“Sin, why don’t you blindfold this kitten for me, hmm? I think he will do better that way.”

My vision goes dark, and I feel a sudden stinging pain on my ass—which is impossible, because I’m lying on my back! How can that be?

“Aoba, you know better than that. I’ve trained you better. You’d better obey!” Mink’s voice rumbles. “You, get the little one worked up. It should work in both directions, I think.”

I feel hands on me—brushing against my bare skin, pulling the chain between my nipples, and even tongues licking me. I can’t tell if they are touching my body or Aoba’s. The chain must be mine, since Aoba doesn’t have these piercings. Someone is grasping at my tail, rubbing the base of it, massaging its base roughly—it’s a very large hand, rough with callouses—and with utter revulsion, I realize it must be Mink.

“This is as soft as it looks,” Mink purrs into my ear. A shiver travels down my body, but when I’m played with like this, my body will respond. I make it a point not to make a sound. I don’t say a thing, not even a sigh.

I feel another stinging sensation against my ass—it must be Aoba’s punishment again. “Comply! You haven’t been gone for a full day and you’ve forgotten all your training!” I jump, nearly out of the bed from the pain, when suddenly, I hear another terrifying voice at my ear.

“I’ll make you feel _so_ good, you’ll forget you’re fucking a woman!”

It’s that horrible gray-haired cat, Sin, whispering to me. He licks my ear, his tongue squishing around deeply inside. I try to pull my shoulder up to avoid his touch, but there is no escape. I groan desperately.

“Are you already so hot for me that you cannot even control your voice?”

I realize my song has stopped, and I try to control the fearful sounds that are leaking from my mouth, as much as possible. That tongue slides out of my ear and down my jaw, down my throat and to my nipples—circling each one, where he takes the time to bite the jewelry and give them tugs.

“Hurry it along, now,” I hear Mink complaining.

So the slimy tongue slides even lower, squishing into my belly button, which I unsuccessfully try to evade by caving my stomach inwards. I don’t _want_ him touching me! There is at least one pair of hands on my hips, holding me against the bed, when that tongue encircles my half hard dick. He sucks and pulls at my tip especially, digging into the slit, tracing the head, and my dick responds to the caress. I don’t _want_ to respond—I feel utterly repulsed and violated. But my body does what it will in response to sexual touching, and this is what my natural response is. I’m mortified, tears continuing to pour down my face, sobs making my breath hitch.

He keeps it up, trying to get me as close to coming as he can, using a hand on my tail as well.

“Remember your job,” Mink’s voice reminds him.

In response to another sudden whip against my ass (well, against Aoba’s ass), my lower body leaps off the bed, thrusting my hips into his mouth, making him choke.

“You’re so eager, little one,” Sin says, removing his mouth from my dick. “I had no idea you were so enthusiastic! I’m glad you like it!”

Again, I’m covered with mortification. I’m close to vomiting behind the gag—but all physical sensation is heightened behind the blindfold. I can’t help getting aroused like this, even if it’s the _last_ person in the world I’d want to be aroused by.

Suddenly, a weight presses against my body, and a soft warm feeling surrounds my cock, very unlike Sin’s mouth. I hear a small protest—oh gods, it’s the female! She’s on top of me, riding my dick, touching my chest, fondling the chain between my nipples gently—what should I do? I don’t _want_ this!

I try to apologize behind my gag, but it comes out unintelligibly. Instead, my song begins again, and the cat on top of me inhales sharply when she hears it. She understands the meaning, and I feel her hands caress my face gently. She isn’t gagged and her hands are not restrained. She leans over me and whispers softly, “It’s all right. Don’t worry. You feel so good. Let’s just get this over with, hmm? Your song—it’s enchanting!” Her whisper dissolves into a small sigh with her last words.

I’m glad I’m not hurting her, but I _really_ don’t want this! In my heart, I call for Rai—no words come, just strangled sounds from behind the gag. I feel terrible—violated even while I’m violating the woman above me.

Aoba is being pleasured with someone’s mouth, I think—not beaten like I was, thankfully—and he is approaching his limit. He is new to the experience of not being beaten, and his climax is approaching quickly. I allow mine to approach at the same time—I want this over with—and we both climax at the same moment, although I come inside the female cat, thrusting my hips up, grinding myself against her, just like she is doing to me. She comes, too, making a quiet, dignified sound, since she is not gagged.

It feels good—climaxing does—but I’m filled with shame, remorse, guilt, and regret. I don’t know what else I could have done, except come, but still, I feel so _dirty_.

I hear rustling afterwards, but my gag and blindfold are not removed. I’m left where I am, and I hate it. I struggle a little, begging and pleading to be released. I feel Mink’s hand wander over my body once more, leaving my yukata open and my body exposed to the chilly air.

“Thanks for your contribution, little one,” Mink’s voice whispers in my ear. “Next time, perhaps I will have a little more time to lavish my attentions on you.” His whip comes down across the top of my thighs again, three times in rapid succession, interrupting my lovely, guilty afterglow. I scream in pain from behind the gag, ending in a muffled cries, fresh tears coursing down my cheeks. “You just look _so_ pretty when you cry! I can’t help myself.”

I hear the door open and close, and I sniffle and sob more, helplessly restrained. I think Aoba is still in the room, since I can hear another cat crying behind a gag. I’m still blindfolded, so I can’t see, either. Have they gone?

I’m utterly exhausted, but I’m unable to rest, terrified they will return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized a small flaw in the plot here. Forgive me if you see it.
> 
> Fuck it all. I found it again and imma fix it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Mink and his crew leave, Konoe is surprised by a return visit--by Mink. 
> 
> Warning: There is a disturbing and graphic description of rape and violence in this chapter. Skip it if you're uncomfortable with this.

The door opens again, shortly after they leave. I can’t imagine who it could be so soon until I hear Aoba’s muffled scream. Fear crawls up my spine in response to the sound, but I can’t move or defend myself. I only hear _one_ set of footsteps, which sends a bolt of fear straight to my heart. I still can’t see, since the blindfold obstructs my vision, but large, calloused hands suddenly press up against my naked body, feeling their way along my sides, leaving me shivering in horror. There’s a low voice, whispered so closely that the fur inside deep within my ears moves, and I twitch it flat against my skull to try to escape the intrusion.

“I simply _had_ to return after hearing your song, little one.” It’s Mink. His voice makes me shiver, and my stomach flops around uncomfortably. He brushes one of his hands against the ear I’ve flattened against my head as though to comfort me. He actually came _back_? Where’s his crew? I protest loudly behind my gag.

“I want to remove your gag so I can kiss those full lips of yours. Do you think you can handle it? I _don’t_ want you to draw attention to what’s going on here. I’ll punish you—severely—if you start screaming for no reason. Do you understand me? _Severely_.” That last word is pronounced with such relish, almost like he wants me to disobey him, as though he’s been looking forward to this _all day_.

I can’t see what he’s doing, so fear bubbles up inside me, and I jump when his hands give the chain between my nipples a tug, sending another wave of fear through my body. I feel him removing the gag, which is tied behind my neck. I’m petrified, frozen. I want to scream and call for help, but I’m too scared to even move.

“You behaved _so_ well for me just now—did your duty _just_ like I asked—such a good kitten. But it wasn’t _quite_ enough for me, I’m afraid. I realized this when I had the others head out. I’ll need just a _little_ more from you, I think. You don’t really mind, do you? It’s your _gift_ , right? That’s what your arrogant silver master said.” His voice sounds smooth, low, and husky. He kisses my mouth, taking my lips harshly. His large fangs bite my lips and tongue, and he sucks on my lips like he’s trying to bruise them, his tongue invading my mouth. To my confusion, he releases my ankle restraints while he’s kissing me. I struggle violently against him, trying to break free, kicking out as soon as my legs are free.

“Oy, we can’t have that now. We don’t want you to hurt anyone. Calm yourself, little one.”

I’m not sure how he does it. Moving lightning fast, he unfastens my wrist restraints and flips me onto my stomach, then reattached my wrists to the headboard. A horrible sinking feeling, a feeling of dread, takes over my mind, and I’m suddenly aware what he has planned—especially when he shoves a pillow beneath my hips, raising my ass up off the bed, and smoothing his hands over my lower back almost tenderly. My breath starts coming hard and fast, and I try not to panic. A rush of words spills from my mouth frantically.

“Ahh—mmm—n- _no_ —p- _please_ —no—not this— _please_ , don’t— _please—_ let me go—p- _please_ ,” I beg, stammering hysterically, tears falling from my eyes, agonized pleas falling from my lips. I’m frozen in place, shaking and quivering, but still unable to move except to quake in fear, neither able to fight nor flee.

“You’ve already had your fun, haven’t you? I saw you with my own eyes, you know. You _enjoyed_  her—and Sin.” I can’t help the small gasp from my mouth. _Was he watching me?_ “You should be nicely warmed up and _ready_ for me, right?” His voice is soft, gentle as the hands that were petting me, still speaking directly into my ear. His hands move, roughly palming my ass, massaging my cheeks, slipping his fingers in the crevice, nudging my entrance. I experience full-blown panic. Fortunately, my body kicks back into gear when I feel his fingers sliding downwards, inching ever closer to those painful stitches from yesterday’s injury, and I buck my hips to get him off of me.

“Oy, oy! You’re just _so_ eager, aren’t you? It really _must_ be your gift, huh?” His mocking voice sounds slippery and slimy, spoken so lowly in my ear. One of his hands presses my hips to the bed, holding me in place, and I hear a whooshing sound zipping through the air. The whip connects to my sit spot with a loud crack and makes me cry out, tears soaking the blindfold. _Why_ is he doing this to me?

“Won’t you _sing_ for me, sweet Siren?” His voice coaxes. The whip comes down once again, this time centered on my ass, and the pain lifts my body up off the mattress. A dry, calloused finger enters me, prying me open when my hips come up. I yelp at the intrusion, and it burns when he reaches my injury. I cringe, a wave of nausea coming over me. _I’m going to be sick._

“Damn, _so_ tight! You’re going to feel _amazing_ , little kitty.” Mink sounds pleased as he growls the words. The whip comes down against the top of my thighs, just below my sit spot, and I scream in response, trying to escape the blow with nowhere to run. His finger inside me holds me against the mattress, firmly and painfully—I can hardly breathe. The whipping hurts _so_ much, making fresh stripes against the welts that are barely healing.

“I want your _song_ , Siren. _Sing_ for me,” that menacing voice whispers close to my ear, and he whips me again. Aoba is crying, begging, and pleading behind his gag, but he sounds far away and sounds like he’s in a tunnel. I’m having trouble getting enough air into my lungs—and the whip comes connects to my sit spot once more. I only grunt in pain this time, struggling against my restraints. _How is he whipping me with his finger inside me like that?_

My legs are shaking from the pain, fear, and anticipation of the horror I’m afraid will follow, and I don’t know what to do. I think of what will happen to the stitches—of what will happen to my injury if he tries to force himself inside, and my body starts to shake uncontrollably. I try to force out a song, one to protect myself from this torture, but I can’t make it happen. I realize tears are falling and I’m sobbing even _before_ the next blow from the whip, and I don’t know if my ass or my thighs will take the damage. I don’t understand why he’s treating me like this.

“You’re looking so gorgeously striped back here, beautifully pink and red, darling—just like your lovely ears. Are you waiting for some _other_ invitation?” I feel another finger forcing its way inside me, roughly scissoring me apart, and I grunt in pain. “Relax, would you? I know Rai _can’t_ be small, so stop acting like _this_ is so painful when I _know_ it isn’t. This is _supposed_ to be a special skill of yours, isn’t it? I’ll _never_ fit if you don’t relax at least a _little_.” Then, I hear, “The fuck is _this_ mess? Are these fucking _stitches_? The fuck? Gods, is this from that _barbarian_? He _didn’t_ warm you up at all yesterday, did he? Well, sorry to do this to you, but I want _my_ turn _without_ any of this shit inside you. I like things pure and natural if you catch my meaning. Hang on a second—this is probably gonna hurt you a lot more than me.”  His voice has an odd, joyful tone in it.

A sudden heavy weight on my legs holds them down, pressing me into the bed. _Is he sitting on me?_ Aoba starts screaming behind his gag. Suddenly, his words start to make sense to me, and I realize with _horror_ what he’s about to do.

“No, _please_! Wait,” I beg again, completely overwrought with fear. “I’ll do _anything_ —just _please_ —please don’t touch those stitches!— _Please_!—I’ll give you the best head you’ve ever had—I'll submit to _anything_ —only _please_ —“ but he doesn’t give me a chance to finish.

"Oh, you'll _submit_ ," he growls lowly. I lose the ability to breathe, beg, or even scream when Mink yanks the stitches out from my insides in one single jerk. I think he might be turning me inside out. He’s pulling my nerves out along with those stitches, pulling that ultra-sensitive spot with it. And once my breath returns, and I scream, cry, sob, kick my legs underneath his weight, and fight with each stitch tearing from that sensitive flesh inside me.

“What, it doesn’t feel good, does it, baby? Just relax, it’ll be over in a minute,” His voice sounds tender, but his actions are excruciating. I want to know _why_ he’s doing this— _why_ is he shredding my insides to pieces like this? Finally, I feel him draw something out of me—and now I’m _sure_ I’m going to be sick. However, just before I throw up, he moves off my body, leaving me dry heaving on the bed. The pain has finally calmed down to a slow burn, and I’m left there, gagging and sobbing quietly.

I draw my legs up beneath my body, and Mink allows this. It raises my ass up a little, of course, which give him better access, but it also protects my thighs. I take a deep quivering breath, resting a moment, trying to relax after the stitches are gone. I know I’m bleeding now, and I don’t make a sound for fear of what else he might do. I’m frozen in place—breath uneven and rough, shaking—frightened to _death_ of what he may do next.

“I want you up on your knees, little one,” and with that, I feel the sharp sting of the whip—and another, and another, until I obey his command. I can’t seem to scurry my legs out from underneath my body fast enough, so he just keeps whipping me, one stinging blow after the next, until I comply. Once I’m on my knees, my arms straight out in front of me as my wrists are still connected to the headboard, I realize my thighs are now exposed. He whips the backs of them to abandon, even though I’ve complied with his command. I squeeze my legs together, hoping to stop the pain from reaching my groin.

The soles of my feet are also at his mercy, and I shriek when the whip comes down across them, my toes curling up in defense, the pain creeping down to my toenails and up to my ankles and knees. I crouch my body down low on the bed, yet try to stay on my knees, trying to both protect myself from pain while still staying obediently in position.

My insides are on fire, and I feel blood sliding down the inside of my thigh. When his fingers enter me once again, it makes the movements a little smoother however excruciating. Each time his fingers scissor me apart or rub against my inner walls where the stitches were just removed, I can't help complaining loudly with my wailing. I wonder why he’s even making an attempt to relax me at this point, or is this about torturing me?

“If you’re going to be so _loud_ , Siren, cry those pretty tears into the mattress. I _love_ your voice, but we don’t want the whole neighborhood to hear. Let’s practice, shall we?” Withdrawing his fingers, he pushes my face into the mattress, holding my head in place, and whips my thighs and soles of my feet several times in rapid succession, encouraging my cries. It works better than he could have hoped, and I can’t breathe with my face smothered in the mattress. I try turning my head to the side to get some air in my lungs, but he won’t allow it.

Finally, _this_ is enough despair and desperation for the Siren to come to my rescue. A warmth buds in my chest and then begins to cover my body completely. While my arms are shaking, my knees quiver and my tail droops, a song of protection emanates from my body’s core. It warms me up from the inside out, providing me with a little relief and hope. Strangely, I picture a large silver cat ( _it’s Rai—come and find me)_ surrounding me in a halo of light when the song reaches out like tendrils around my body. The light appears to catch the whip just _before_ it lands on my skin, and it protects me just a _little_ from the harsh, stinging smacks.

I _still_ feel stroke after stroke coming down against the soles of my feet, my thighs, my ass, and even my lower back as well. What does he _want_ from me? He _has_ my song—what else does he want?

“Wh-what do you _want_ from me?” I cry out angrily between sobs. “Just _fuck_ me and be done with it, if that’s what you came for!”

When I yell those words, I hear Aoba scream in fear from behind his gag. I’d forgotten he was here, forgotten he is experiencing my pain, and I feel convicted for encouraging Mink. But I want this prolonged torture session to finish. I can’t _take_ anymore!

“Ah—your _song_ —gods, it’s so _beautiful_ —just gorgeous—the light—where does it come from?” I hear Mink groaning behind me. In place of those two fingers, I feel something larger hovering at my entrance. The head of Mink’s dick is pushing me open, and I let out another agonized scream. The sensation when he penetrates me burns like fire, and I cannot imagine how it would feel without my song protecting me.

“I think you have a _lovely_ voice, but _shush_ now, little one. I’m sure it’s not _so_ bad,” he whispers into my ear, nipping it playfully. One of his hands moves to my mouth in an effort to gag me. My stomach is roiling, and I afraid I will throw up. Each inch he progresses inside me burns more than the last, and I truly feel like I’m splitting in half. My blindfold is soaked through with tears, and my entire body is trembling.

“Gods, that’s _it_ —you’re _amazingly_ tight—ah, _shit_ ,” he sighs as he enters me. Once he’s all the way inside, he rocks his hips immediately, not giving me a chance to adjust. He grabs hold of my hips, pinching my hard enough to leave bruises, and takes himself all the way out and slams back inside. I cry out, but I’ve lost my voice—I’m almost hoarse. I can hear only my song and his pleasured sighs. I hear a soft chuckle behind me.

When he thrusts inside me that second time—all in one go—it’s _more_ than I can take. The wind is knocked out of me and added to the pain of the original penetration along with the burning sensation of my torn insides, all of it is experienced at once, afresh. My stomach finally gives out, and I vomit all over the mattress. Mink growls and keeps moving.

“Turn your head or you’ll suffocate on your own vomit, you stupid shit,” he tells me, sounding slightly annoyed but unsurprised, as though this were a common experience. He yanks my hair, pulling at the back of my head, turning my head to the side. He continues fucking me—thrusting harder, faster, stronger.

“Aoba, don’t get me wrong—you were a good fuck, but _this_ little guy—I could get _used_ to him—ah, _shit_!” With each thrust, my inner walls move along with him, and I feel them pulling, tearing, ripping. He begins pounding into me wildly, growling, his claws digging my hips. I finally lose the strength in my knees and collapse against the bed, allowing him to simply pound me into the mattress, dissolving into hopeless tears.

My _heart_ hurts with every thrust—this abuse is overwhelming—and I don’t know what I did to make him treat me like this. Is it _just_ because I’m a Siren? At the moment, I _hate_ the Siren in me, despite its protective song. It came too late, and it’s the _Siren’s_ fault I’m at Mink’s mercy. I call out to Rai once more with everything I have— _come find me—help me—please!_ Soon, I can’t distinguish the inward thrusting with the outward pulling motion, and my pitiful cries become extended weeping, and I can’t catch my breath in between sobs.

Mink grabs the base of my swollen tail, and he starts to pick up speed. It hurts _so_ much in spite of my song—and I notice my eyes are going gray on the outside edges. _Am I about to faint? Oh, gods, let it be so!_ I don’t fight the feeling. In fact, I _follow_ it, I follow that gray sensation, hoping I _will_ indeed lose consciousness. In no time, I do, in fact, pass out. The entire room goes from gray to black, even _before_ he climaxes. _Much_ to Mink's irritation, since once I pass out, my body abruptly stops its song.

“What the _fuck_? You stupid shit! Wake up! I’m not _done_ with you yet!” He tries to wake me up with several brutal blows to the soles of my feet and my upper back, which is all he can safely reach while he's pounding into me. When he strikes my feet, my toes curl up automatically.

Strangely—I can _see_ all this. I can _see_ he’s irritated, because, oddly, I am floating above my body— _outside_ of myself. I watch his climax. I watch him dispassionately when he pulls out to cum over the top of my body, spraying white ribbons over my severely punished ass, back, and even in my hair. He’s pretty pissed, it seems. He’s so angry, in fact, that he whips me while I’m unconscious even _after_ he’s climaxed. The scathing punishment he doles out to my back, ass, thighs, and the soles of my feet makes Aoba cry, flinch, try to cover himself even while restrained, and wince in sympathetic pain.

I continue floating outside my body, watching Mink violently beat my unconscious self. Such a strange sight. My body simply lies there, not flinching, not moving, except the recoil from the violence of the blows when he whips it. Mink has completely lost his temper and seems to be taking it out on my body—it’s so strange since he is usually so composed. While my hair is covered in vomit and cum, at least my mouth is turned to the side. I don’t appear to be in danger of suffocation, at least at this point.

After some time, he seems to grow tired of beating my unconscious body, and he growls ferociously, roughly reattaching my ankle restraints to the bed and my gag. Though, why? I’m unconscious. I’m not going anywhere or making any noise. Then, he fixes his clothing and hair. He walks over to Aoba and kisses him on the mouth over his gag.

“I’ll miss you, my little blue Siren, but _not_ as much as I’ll miss _this_ little guy. You never _once_ sang for me. _He did._ However, once you learn to sing, feel free to come back to me whenever Red grows tired of you, as I’m _sure_ he will.”

He stalks out of the room in several long strides, leaving one of us shivering, crying, and restrained in a corner, and the other unconscious and bleeding. My consciousness floats off into darkness, wondering exactly what this out-of-body experience was about. Was it another Siren thing, perhaps?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So--Rai comes in and finds the mess of Konoe and Aoba, and he's not pleased. He helps them get put back together--and keeps himself together, for the most part.

I wake suddenly when the door slides open. Terror fills my body, freezing me in place, expecting Mink has returned yet again. But I’m still restrained and can’t move, so I don’t make a sound, hoping foolishly that he has forgotten about me. After a short moment, however, I smell Rai’s warm scent. I should have been able to sense him in the hallway, but I didn’t. Perhaps because I’m covered in a variety of other fluids? I still don’t move or make a sound—I’m not sure I want him to see me in this sticky mess of blood, tears, and other fluids I'd rather not acknowledge.

“What the _fuck_!?” His voice—his powerful captain’s voice—booms. He addresses Aoba. “Siren! What the _hell_ happened here?” Rai hasn’t seen me yet, restrained on the bed, still cowering in fear, but Aoba starts making desperate sounds behind his gag.

“Koujaku! Bardo!” Rai’s deep voice resonates loudly through the inn’s corridors. Twitching my ears, I detect several sets of footsteps heading this way.

“I’m fine, I’m all right,” Aoba’s soft voice is brimming with tears. “But Konoe, he’s…”

“ _Fuck_!” My body flinches when I feel large, warm hands touching my bare skin. I’m terrified at first until I realize it’s _Rai's_ hands that are touching me. _I will be all right now_ , I tell myself. _It’s all right._ Tears burn my eyes. The power starts to seep out of his voice. “Ah, shit! What _is_ this! _”_

He gently but quickly removes the gag from my mouth, then the blindfold. The light in the room blinds me, the silver hair in front of me is too bright. Everything looks so strange, like a room I’ve never seen before, and the light hurts my eyes, making me squint.

“ _Konoe_ ,” Rai’s voice is utterly broken. He’s searching the headboard with one hand, holding my head gently in the other, releasing my wrists from the restraints. I immediately start gagging, and I lean over the side of the bed and vomit on the floor, missing his boots by a few inches. I lose the rest my breakfast. My entire body is wracked with convulsions, retching repeatedly even _after_ my stomach is empty as if relieving myself of the experience.

“ _Konoe_.” His hands cradle my head, brushing my sticky hair, carefully caressing my injured back and my neck, trying to comfort me while I’m violently throwing up.

Hearing my name on his lips is what I need, and I burst into tears, once the contents of my stomach have emptied themselves. My body shivers intensely, but it feels so _good_ to hear him calling my name. He keeps his hands on my grimy body, unperturbed by how disgusting I must feel, holding me close, caressing me softly, gently, soothingly.

“Bardo!” His loud, commanding captain’s voice rings out once again, even more forcefully down the hallway. “ _Bardo_! Get your ass in here!” I'm relieved to hear it, though it makes me flinch. I recall the first day I met him, how he intimidated me when I cowered on the floor of his quarters, when he spoke to me in that commanding tone. I'm _so_ relieved to hear it. It comforts me.

Rai helps me sit up, pulling me against his chest, letting me weep freely. His hands keep rubbing my back, avoiding any welts. Yet I hear a terrifying, rumbling growl building up inside of him. He continues stroking me, letting me sob.

“Bardo, get his legs out of these damned restraints, would you? Aoba, are you injured? Will you tell me what happened?” The growl rolls out over his words, but he still maintains control, speaking loudly, forcefully, and calmly.

Koujaku is holding Aoba, I see through my tears. Koujaku looks furious, his large white fangs peeking through his lips. It might be my imagination, but is his hair a lighter color? It looks red, and I’m _sure_ it was dark yesterday. Aoba nods miserably, and I hear a terrifying growl emanating from Koujaku. Aoba is in sorry shape, too. He was sexually assaulted as well, and another violent shiver passes through my body, and my stomach lurches again.

“It was the same situation as last time,” Aoba says, the words coming from him seem pained, forced. “Only our roles were reversed, and Mink...” his voice trails off.

“ _What_?” Rai asks. “What did Mink do?” His captain’s voice is absolutely terrifying, reverberating in his chest. My ears twitch, flattening against my head, even though his rage isn’t directed at any of us.

Suddenly, words spill from Aoba’s lips, like he’s desperate to be rid of them. “Mink likes to see Konoe suffer. He beat the front of his legs with the whip! I felt it, too—and he couldn’t move, couldn’t even see. Konoe was _so_ afraid! I couldn’t do _anything_! I couldn’t protect him—I couldn’t even protect _myself_. And there was a different girl this time—and she—she _fucked_ him, almost like she _enjoyed_ herself. She must have been a slave, so she probably didn’t have a choice. But I couldn’t stop her! And Sin—oh, gods—he teased him, touched him, sucked him off, got him excited, made his body respond on its own—Konoe was so scared he nearly threw up—And all I could do is watch—watch while they teased me, whipped me, sucked me off, teased my body the same way. I was useless! I’m so sorry, Konoe.” Aoba breaks down in tears.

“It’s ok, Aoba. You did well to tell me,” Rai says, holding me tight. “You did well—you were outnumbered, taken by surprise, and there was nothing you could have done.”

“B-but then—he came back! M-mink, he came back in! After everyone left, only minutes later. He came back for Konoe!” Aoba bursts out.

“What?” Rai’s body freezes. “What do you mean, he came back for him?”

“He came back and he a-assaulted him. He whipped him—his back, his thighs, his ass, even the s-soles of his feet—and he—gods, oh my gods—he r-ripped his stitches out from his insides—he p-pulled them right out! I s-saw him do that! I thought Konoe was going to die! Mink said  _he_ wanted a turn! I couldn’t do _anything_ to help! And he r-r-raped Konoe right in front of me!—Konoe threw up, and he p-passed out from the pain, and Mink l-lost his t-temper when he p-passed out because K-k-konoe c-can’t sing when he’s unc-conscious—So he beat him and whipped his unconscious body—And I c-couldn’t stop him! He even restrained him and gagged him again when he was finished—and I'm so sorry!” Aoba is stammering and stuttering through his sobs, and Koujaku is staring at me, horrified.

Rai is frozen. He’s stopped breathing, stopped his growling. I can’t move. I’m frightened when the powerful arms around me grip me even tighter. Rai's heartbeat quickens. Then, he takes a deep breath. His voice comes out calm and collected. “Aoba. I’m glad you’re all right. Thank you for telling me. Koujaku, take him out of here and see to his care. My crewmen will assist you.”

Koujaku holds Aoba in his arms, shushing him gently, and carries him out. That leaves Bardo and Rai in here with me. When I peek through Rai’s arms at Bardo, he looks horrified.

“You are still shaking, little one,” Rai says calmly. “Take deep breaths, Konoe. You are _safe_ now. No one can hurt you here. I’m here with you, and I won’t leave your side.” His voice is filled with regret. “Bardo, would you check him out?”

I protest—making a small wordless sound—when Rai releases me from his arms. “Konoe, it’s _all right._ Bardo won’t hurt you. He’s just going to check if there’s been any further damage, all right? You are _just fine_. Take a deep breath. Relax, now.”

I obey—I _have_ to obey, since he used my name—taking a deep, quivering breath, allowing him to help me lie down, trying to relax into the bed, the bed in which that… _incident_ just took place. What _was_ that? An assault? A rape? Rai strokes my ears, which I find comforting, mesmerizing, even. I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment, tears overflowing down my cheeks, but that makes me remember the blindfold. So I open my eyes wide, searching for Rai’s face, searching for his pale blue eye. I reach out and take hold of his cape, gripping it till my knuckles turn white.

There’s a tender touch to my bare thigh, and I flinch. I hear Bardo’s low voice growling softly, “This is quite fresh. Your poor legs! The ointment will prevent scarring, but why hit him like this in the first place?”

“Give him something,” Rai commands. He lifts up my head, helping me drink the strange, bitter concoction from yesterday. I choke it down obediently, willingly, hoping it will help me forget everything that happened.

“It takes a few minutes to work,” Bardo reminds him. “I’ll have to replace his stitches, and he will probably require more.”

“I know,” Rai responds sharply. After a short pause, he continues, “This attack was deliberate. He _knew_ we would be out today. I didn’t foresee this, and I _should_ have seen this coming.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Bardo answers. “No one could have known.”

“It’s my fault,” Rai sounds desperate and angry. “I _should_ have known. He could have easily discovered where Koujaku was staying from Benishigure, and that would have led him straight here. I left them here,  _alone_ , in my desire for revenge. I thought the hotel staff would be enough of a deterrent. This is a public space!” An exasperated sound follows his sentence, and he looks really upset.

In a short while, my suffering starts to lift, the stinging sensation from the welts on my body fades, the burning sensation inside me cools, and my consciousness starts to float. My vision gets a little fuzzy as well. But my heart is aching, and I feel violated and dirty. I continue to hold on desperately to Rai’s cape.

“His pupils are dilated, so the medicine is probably working. How are you feeling, little one? A little better?” Bardo’s deep voice floats into my ear, tickling me. I lift up my shoulder a little to protect myself from the sensation.

“Let me help,” Rai murmurs. “Perhaps I should bathe him first?”

“That would probably make him feel a lot better. Then we can disinfect his wounds, and I’ll stitch him up. Then I’ll have you apply the salve to these welts. Oh gods, his feet—Captain, did you notice his feet? He won't be walking for a while. He may be uncomfortable in the water, but the showers will probably help him relax.”

I feel myself being gently lifted, but my consciousness is barely aware of my surroundings—except for Rai, I can tell he is near, and I want him there. I also notice when we enter the humid bathroom, the warm water is already running, and Rai climbs into the shower with me. He’s nude as well—I feel his warm, bare skin against my back.

“Konoe, this isn’t going to hurt you. It _won’t_ sting or burn. Do you understand me? Do you understand what I’m saying?” His voice whispers softly in my ear, again sending a soft tickle through my body.

The warm water cascades down my back, soaking my hair. It feels pleasant, gentle, soothing.

“I want you to imagine that this water is rinsing that experience from you. Do you see the drain? That’s where this experience is going. Konoe, we are washing this entire experience from you right now.” His calm voice continues to whisper in my ear.  
  
He applies shampoo to my hair, massaging my scalp and ears thoroughly, and then I watch, mesmerized, as the bubbles are rinsed down the drain. The tremors in my body are slowing down as well. I watch with fascination as the experience itself is washed down the drain. I look up, turning my head in amazement at his face, meeting his pale blue eye.

“Take a deep breath, now, Konoe. Keep looking. Watch as the experience is washed away. You won’t _ever_ have to deal with this again.” He tilts my head back toward to drain. I feel his breath on my nape—he has me pulled next to him, his body behind mine, his hands gently caressing me. “Do you feel it working?”

I haven’t spoken yet, and he’s noticed. “Konoe, I want an _audible_ response from you. I know you are afraid, but I need to know that you understand what I am saying to you.” I feel a soft nip on my ear—the one with the piercing—he’s tugging on the earring, gently, trying to get me to respond.

“Mmm,” I say. “Mmm.” I try to form words, but that is all I can manage.

He soaps up my body, taking care to clean my nipple piercings, checking them out carefully. I feel his hands on my back, my legs, my thighs, my ass, my tail, even the soles of my feet—examining me from head to toe. Amazingly, not even the soap stings when it touches the welts on my body. I’m so thankful he remembered the Siren’s command—maybe I _don’t_ hate the Siren part of me quite as much right now.

“I’m so sorry, Konoe. This is my fault.”

I can’t speak. I can’t move my body, in fact. I just lie still. I feel tears pricking my eyes, and so I close them, and the tears brim over. He licks them from my face and then licks my ears gently.

“I’m going to have to kill him. I don’t see a way around it.” It’s whispered so quietly in my ear, I hardly hear it over the sound of the shower. Perhaps I imagined it.

I feel my consciousness floating away, and he encourages this. “Rest, little one. Go ahead, Konoe. _Sleep_ through this.” His arms feel nice around me, and the warm water feels wonderful surrounding me. So I close my eyes and let him finish cleaning me, hoping that the worst will be over by the time I wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to wait too long before posting this part--in fact, I wrote this chapter at the same time (or even before finishing) the previous chapter. I'm sorry about that--it was *really* awful.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe has a weird dream about Aoba—singing to him, helping him heal.
> 
> Nudity and grooming.

When I next wake, I smell some strong, strange scents surrounding me, strange but still familiar at the same time. I’m still out of it from Bardo’s potion, and my body is still singing its soft song, recovering me slowly, softly, to its healing tune.

Once of the scents I recognize as Aoba. I think I may still be half dreaming, because he’s got his hands on me, and I hear him singing softly. His song is soft and dreamy. His Siren’s song is gentle and unfamiliar, yet also nostalgic, just like that scent—a part of me remembers his song from ages past, possibly another lifetime ago.

His song is one of healing, addressed to me—healing my body, gently and subtly. It takes me a minute to notice he is touching my injuries: my back, my neck, my ass, my legs, even the soles of my feet. I’m currently curled up on my side, and he feels nice and warm curled around me, singing quietly. He smells sweet—floral, like fresh carnations. I have a strange hazy memory surface in my mind of the two of us, floating just like this in a fresh, warm body of water, our bodies very different from what they are now. 

There’s a soft blue light that flows from his as he sings, similar to the light that flows from me when my song emanates from my body. However, instead of slim tendrils of light, Aoba’s looks more like puffs of smoke floating into the air—from all over his skin, everywhere he comes in contact with me, there are wisps of smoke or perhaps steam, floating between us. It’s enchanting to watch. 

My nose is struck with a second unfamiliar scent. It’s slightly floral, but with a spice added—perhaps vanilla or some sort of incense. It’s a pleasant smell, quite comforting, I think. Perhaps because Aoba enjoys it so much, it’s also extremely attractive to me. It doesn’t smell like Rai, but it shares a similar sweetness and the same power, I think.

My mind is quite fuzzy from the concoction Bardo gave me earlier and also from Aoba’s song, and I feel like I’m in a dream rather than fully awake. So I think it’s nothing out of the ordinary when the unfamiliar presence reaches out to touch me. I allow it, welcoming it, even. I’m most likely asleep right now, anyway.

I’m singing, too, and the lights tendrils from my song reaching out, curling out around Aoba’s body, and around this other person as well. I reach my hands outand touch Aoba’s lower back, touching a raised line on it, a welt, and he flinches. However, I use my song to soothe him, the light from my fingers provide a measure of healing and soothing, which allows me to touch him without pain. He actually starts sighing with relief or possibly pleasure—I can’t tell which. I continue to work the tendril of light along the line of the injury, trying to provide healing in this dreamy world.

He smiles at me, and encourages me to do more, turning to his back to me. I feel his hands reaching out, offering the same healing for me. He whispers, “I’ve missed you. Do you remember? When we were together before?” I hum contently.

It takes a little time for my brain to catch up with observations. Eventually, it occurs to me that the other person with us is Koujaku. He is lying behind me, curled up next my body quite closely, and his body feels very warm and very powerful. It doesn’t feel strange to be in between the two of these two cats—nude. In fact, in some ways, it feels like I belong here, with Koujaku’s hands petting my ears gently, rubbing my shoulders, soothing me. It feels quite natural, perhaps like I’m an extension of Aoba, and my song is reaching his ears, reaching out to him, touching him and moving his heart as well. Plus, this is just a dream—and such an oddly realistic one, I have to remind myself.

I turn my head slightly, admiring some incredibly intricate tattoos on Koujaku’s chest and torso—how my mind could have created these astounds me—but perhaps I knew from Aoba’s mind? Koujaku’s large hands float in the mysterious golden light hovering over my body, and he murmurs, “This is amazing. I didn’t know this was possible. It’s beautiful. There’s a beautiful harmony when the two of you sing together that is so unexpected and breathtaking. The color even changes to a beautiful green.” 

I didn’t realize how close in size he is to Rai, and maybe that’s why he’s showing up in my dreams this way. He held my hand in his and kissed it the first time we met, and it felt similar to my silver cat’s, but having his hands in the aura of my song—and now, when he’s running his hands so smoothly along the lines of my body—he’s definitely the same large breed of cat. A small shiver goes through my body. I wonder, do they have the same different types of breeds on this island? Aoba is definitely a smaller cat, but not as small as me, it seems. I haven’t seen any cats close to my size here.

The thoughts tumble in my head rather uselessly. I feel Aoba’s lips on my chest. It’s a startling sensation—because it isn’t just lips—it’s his song touching me, too—and he’s playing with the jewelry attached to my nipple. 

“Sparkly,” I hear him say, a playful tone in his voice. But I don’t know how he sounds so calm. The touch was overwhelming to me, almost like an electrical shock. I could barely breathe, in fact, my breath still hasn’t started back yet, and I wait, watching what he will do next. “Didn’t this hurt? Did Rai pierce these? They look so fresh. Why don’t you let me heal them a little for you?” He hums softly, and a blue smoky shimmering mist is released from the tip of his tongue. 

A low, wet purr rumbles from deep within my body—but at the same time, I tremble a little as I watch his tongue poke out between his lips and wrap itself around my nipple. Koujaku is watching him, peeking over my shoulder, and he whispers closely against my ear, “Oh, what a nice purr you have—do you like that? Are you shaking, too? So innocent!” 

In addition to the purr, I can’t help the soft sigh, or rather, the series of soft sighs, that come out in response to Aoba bathing my nipple with his tongue and song. It’s a lovely, warm feeling, but strangely confusing. Koujaku starts to purr behind me as well, but his is much deeper and louder than mine, and he sounds almost wild.

I think I am a little afraid. What a strange dream! What am I doing here? Why am I in bed with these two? My song covers my body in a diffused glow, and I realize that both cats are physically attached to me in some way.

“Relax, Konoe,” comes Koujaku’s purring voice, resounding deep in my ear. And just like that, my body relaxes, just as though it were Rai’s command. Why? Koujaku is not _my_ cat. Can he command me, because of Aoba? Because of my singing? Because of Aoba? I’m confused and startled—but at the same time I’m a little relieved, because for sure, this _must_ be a dream. 

Aoba stretches to the other nipple, dragging his tongue across my chest, taking little nips of the golden chain on his way, glancing up at me mischievously through his gorgeous lashes. He noticed I responded to Koujaku’s voice, too. “Koujaku, would you ask Konoe to roll onto his back? Just so I can reach him better?”

Koujaku whispers in my ear again—hypnotically, his voice is mesmerizing, “Konoe, roll onto your back, please.” Again, I comply instantly, which is slightly awkward, since this puts me right on top of Koujaku’s chest. “Hmm. How interesting.”

He moves out from underneath me, watching Aoba and me for a moment in silence. I take a quick peek at his face, a tiny shock of fear bubbling up in my chest. His red eyes stare me down intensely, and he looks full of mischief. 

“Aoba, why don’t you groom this little guy? He’s in need of comfort. Konoe, Aoba’s grooming is the best! It will make you feel amazing! Keep up the beautiful song, both of you. It’s wonderful.”

I watch him back up against the headboard—my gods, the three of us are _in bed_ together. What kind of dream _is_ this? And quite suddenly, Aoba attacks my ears—holding me down quite forcefully, using his mouth, tongue, and hands—claws drawn. But after my initial shock dies down, it feels amazing. 

Koujaku is watching Aoba groom my ears carefully, working to get all the fur in the right direction, and I find I can’t move my body even a little. I protest occasionally, when he nips too hard, but even the nips feel good. I’ve never had a brother—but somehow—I think long ago, in another life, Aoba and I belonged together.

I find myself leaning into his grooming, allowing the squishy sensations to enter my ears with Aoba’s tongue, tiny shivers traveling down my body with each short stroke of his tongue. I also realize that in addition to singing, I’m sighing a little bit, with each lick, and Aoba is humming with each lick as well, making sure I’m comfortable.

“His ears look good, Aoba,” Koujaku can’t keep the lust from his voice. “You’re doing a wonderful job. Konoe, you’re being so good, so patient. Aoba, I want you to groom Konoe’stail.” 

And just like that, Aoba moves that soft blue glow down along my body, turning me over in bed. I protest again, not liking the forcefulness of his movements at first, and his tongue feels so strange against my tail. It’s too much—too overwhelming and almost painful at first.

The strange sighing sounds leaking from my mouth are quiet at first, but then I can’t help myself—the closer Aoba’s mouth gets to the crooked part of my tail, the louder I get. I complain loudly—and suddenly, I realize I don’t really sound like I’m complaining anymore.

“Oh, shit,” I hear Koujaku say, and he shifts in the bed.

I’m nestled firmly against the bed, Aoba holding me firmly, and I’m unable to move because of Koujaku’s command. I can’t help thinking about last night—the tail play with Rai—how it might feel to have _his_ tongue on my tail. His tongue is even rougher than Aoba’s, since Rai’s fur is so long, so full, so luscious— 

And just as I’m picturing him in my mind, he’s standing before me, as though I imagined him here. It’s my _dream_ , of course, so why wouldn’t that be able to happen, I think. 

“What the _hell_ is going on in here!” His voice is loud, commanding, the captain’s voice. I flatten my ears against my head when I hear it booming across the room.

He doesn’t smell quite right—this is my dream, I know—but still. It’s Rai, I know it’s my Rai—but in addition to his normal, sweet honeyed scent, he also smells quite strongly of something metallic. Is it blood? I look at him closely—and he’s suddenly right in my face, and he looks upset.

“Ah—mm—ah—mmm?” I try to form words, but nothing comes, only various obscene-sounding sighs. 

He glances over at Koujaku, who is sitting a little ways away from Aoba and me, and Aoba keeps up the grooming, and I keep sighing.

“What is _this_.” It’s not the Captain’s voice anymore. It’s much softer, much lower—the not-question voice. I feel his hands touching my ears now, and his touch is soft, and _ever_ so welcome. I push my head into his hand, and sigh again.

“Er, I thought Konoe might feel better with some grooming, and then this kind of happened.” Koujaku’s voice sounds incredibly young, like he’s getting in trouble. 

“What do you mean, you suggested? Did you issue a command? Wait—can you command my Siren?” There’s a brief pause. And Rai says, “Aoba, you can stop if you want to.”

But he keeps grooming me. I protest a little more, looking at Rai, making a whining sound. I think I want this to stop. It’s too much, too overwhelming.

“Has he spoken yet?”

Koujaku shakes his head.

“Konoe, if you want Aoba to stop, say so. I need an audible answer from you. Konoe, won’t you please speak to me.” Rai’s voice is soft, but firm. Is he worried?

I open my mouth, and the only thing that comes out is, “Ahhh—mmm.”

Koujaku snorts. Rai looks at him sharply.

I try again. “P-please.” 

“Please what? Please more grooming? It sounds like you’re enjoying this. It looks like you’re _quite_ enjoying this.” I notice the corners of Rai’s mouth are lifted slightly, but he keeps his voice stern.

“P-please—Ah—stop.”

Aoba stops licking my tail. “I’m sorry, Konoe. I thought you liked it.”

“Mmm.” I answer, and Rai comes over to me. Why does he smell so strange?

“Koujaku, can you command my Siren?” Rai asks.

“Command? What do you mean?”

“I think you know damn _well_ what I mean.”

“Shit, it just _happened_ , man. It was the song. I mean, you heard it. The overlapping harmonies—it was incredible. I made a suggestion, and they both just cooperated like it was natural.”

“Hmmpf,” Rai is unhappy. He pets my ears comfortingly. He leans over me and whispers, “I’m sorry I left you. I’m back now, and I won’t leave again. Let’s go to our room.” 

He scoops me up in his arms and sweeps out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was just re-reading this, and what a shit job editor I am if I confused it’s with its. Just my own personal opinion. Perhaps I was traumatized by this story—it does get better.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai gets Konoe back to his room. It turns out that was *not* a dream. Rai is unhappy sharing his Siren with any other cat, and Konoe suffers through some rather rough grooming.

“Do you care to tell me what the hell that was all about?”

I hear Rai’s voice, low and growling, almost snarling, resounding deep within my ear, when we get back to our room. It isn’t the same room we were in before, thankfully. I couldn’t bear to set foot in that room again—I don’t want to be near that bed, either. There’s a strangely uncomfortable feeling suffocating me, strangling me, twisting around my throat when I even think about it.

Rai’s voice sounds almost threatening. It’s full of something I don’t recognize, something I haven’t heard before. At first, I thought it was laced with desire, but now, I hear something else. Perhaps some passion is indeed present, but truthfully, he sounds furiously possessive and jealous.

Fully awake now, I’m aware of my surroundings, awake from that earlier dreamy state. I want to ask where he was, and why he smells the way he smells—of that man and of blood— _did he kill him?_ Yet I can’t form the question. I can’t form words. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I speak?

I reach out my hands to capture his face. He’s hovering over me on the bed, holding me down, as though I might try to escape. His tongue roughly invades my ear after thoroughly licking the outer fur and skin.

“What were you doing in there? Were you singing to them? They had their hands all over you—I can smell them on you.”

His nose nuzzles my hair, my neck, and my throat. His long hair tickles me as it brushes over my bare skin, but I can’t fight him off. I’m sure I don't want this kind of treatment, and I am afraid.

“Konoe, stop fighting. Stop resisting me. _Submit_.” His voice is firm but quiet, spoken directly in my ear.

My hands fall to my sides, and tears immediately surface in my eyes. He wants me to surrender, and I close my eyes. I reluctantly lift my chin, giving him access to the entire length of my throat.

Shit—his fangs scrape against my neck as he traces his lips along the line of my chin and down my throat. _Get off!_ I want to scream and I can’t. _You’re scaring me!_ My song rises up loudly in protest as his fangs graze my Adam’s apple, and as they skid along my throat. I don’t _want_ this!

Frustrated tears slip down my cheeks, and my words will not form. Perhaps my song will work in place of words? What is _wrong_ with me? Where is my voice? I protest softly using wordless sounds, mumbling, but I can’t even move because he told me not to resist. I am trapped—trapped in my body, trapped in my mind—no way out without words—and the panic is growing unbearable.

He growls in response to my hesitation. “You are disobeying me. Konoe, aren't you required to obey a direct command from me? If I tell you to submit yourself to my will, don’t you _have_ to do it?”

His pale blue eye meets mine, capturing my gaze, and what I see takes my breath away. There is a terrifying darkness there—a fiery anger or is it a raging madness? I haven’t seen this side of him before. Is this why he is acting so strangely? Or is he acting strangely because of where he has been, and what he has just done? Who _is_ this cat? Is this the _real_ Rai?

I start to feel light-headed and realize it’s because I’ve stopped breathing. I haven’t been able to take a breath since he captured my gaze with his, so I desperately gasp for air. My body trembles. I don’t know how to respond—so I reach out with my hands instead of words, placing them on either side of his temple when I’m struck by an utterly mysterious sensation.

At first, an electric shock shoots through my fingers, hands, and forearms, which reaches to my shoulders, rushing straight to my head. Then, I’m suddenly hit with a throbbing pain behind my right eye—and it’s _excruciating_! It nauseates me, it hurts so much.

Bursts of light flash in my vision, throbbing in time to the beat of my heart. My ears twitch to the pulse, and pain rings in my ears. Could this be Rai’s pain?My tears of frustration and fear turn to tears of pain. I clench my teeth to bear it, but I don't understand how he can function like this. When I meet his eye, and his gaze has slightly softened, shifting from jealous fury to confused questioning.

“What are you doing, Siren? What is this,” it’s one of his not-questions, spoken in a much quieter tone now. “Is this—what are you doing to me?”

I try to force the words out, although it feels as though I’ve forgotten how to speak. Nothing comes out of my mouth but wordless utterances.

“Your hands—they are burning me. _Speak_ , Konoe. Tell me what you are doing.” He puts his hands on top of mine but doesn’t attempt to move them.

Keeping my hands in place, and I try speaking again. “Help y—trying to help,” the broken words desperately fall from my mouth.

I move both hands to his covered right eye, slipping them under the eyepatch. I’ve seen the wound under this patch once before, but I never realized this was the source of his headaches. It feels hot to the touch. He never takes this eyepatch off, not even when he sleeps. My hands intrude on his space. They don’t belong, and his other eye looks like he might reject my touch. Even the time he allowed me to touch his wound before, it was the _Siren_  reaching out, and he wasn't in this kind of pain. It’s a more intimate gesture than feeling him up underneath his pants, almost. His body shivers above me slightly, and I hope I’m not causing more harm.

My song amplifies, strengthens, and becomes more sonorous, and tendrils of light curl out from the tips of my fingers, leaking out from under the eyepatch. Spirals of light look like the legs of a spider, and then grow larger, branching out again and again like a vine, spinning away and filling the room with a warm glow.

“What is this...” Rai rolls off me, onto his side, trying to escape my fingers, but I don’t release my hold, nor do I stop singing. I follow him, rolling on top of him, almost aggressively.

“Ease y-your p-pain,” I reply in a stammering voice, still struggling to find the words. “P-please let m-me.” My speech still isn’t working properly, so I briefly lower my lips onto his mouth in a soft kiss, in place of words, while I straddle his waist. Smiling gently, I whisper, “It’s w-why I’m h-here, isn’t it?” 

He’s grasped both of my wrists now, one in each of his hands, and his eye watches me, even as I lower my face to kiss him. His pain is terrible, overwhelming, nauseating. I didn’t know how much his headaches hurt—and he is suffering horribly now. It breaks my heart, the pain in my chest hurts even more than the sympathetic pain in my head. However, the longer my song spins into the air, the more his pain seems to decrease, and soon, he relaxes his grip on my wrists, letting me hold my hands where they are, allowing me to soothe him until the last of his pain is swept away. I listen to his breath, calmly breathing in and out normally once again.

“Siren, shouldn’t you be using that song on your own injuries?” Rai stares at me under long, pale lashes. I’ve noticed how unusually long his eyelashes are before, but this cat is _truly_ beautiful. 

But why does he get headaches like this? Is it related to that insanity I saw? And why does he smell of blood? And why does he smell like—like—?

My body is suddenly drenched in cold sweat, and my stomach turns over grotesquely. I’m going to be sick.

Quickly releasing my hands and letting him go, I crawl to the side of the bed, heaving violently, as my stomach empties itself. There can’t be much of anything left to throw up at this point, so I cough up mostly bile into a bucket on the floor, hanging my head over the side of the bed. My body is wracked with convulsions, my stomach squeezing tightly as if it’s turning itself inside out.

“Oy, oy, you’re going to tear your stitches, little one,” Rai sits up, rubbing my shoulders gently. “Konoe, calm yourself. There’s nothing for you to fear here.”

But there _is_! Why does Rai smell like _that man_? Although, his words calm me and my stomach significantly.

“But—your scent—it's”— _It's wrong!_  My words are interrupted by another dry heave.

“Hush now, Konoe. Calm yourself.” His voice really is much calmer. Is his head really feeling better? Perhaps I was sick from the sympathetic head pain. “What is the matter with you? You’re acting strangely.”

“Your scent,” I say as if those two words explain everything.

“Your words, Siren. They are not making sense. I’m glad they are coming back to you, but you need to say more, Konoe, so I can understand what you mean.” Rai hands me a glass of water, for which I am immensely grateful. Sitting up, I sip it slowly.

“You smell like... _him._ ” Silent tears overflow because I cannot even say his name. I’m too weak to even speak his name. “Why do you smell like that man?” Did Rai do something reckless? Is _that_ why he is in such pain now? And what was that insanity that I saw in his eye earlier? That was _frightening_.

“Well, you smell like Koujaku and Aoba,” Rai states, looking at my eyes directly.

“What?” _That can’t be._ That was just a hazy dream. Wasn’t it? I wasn't awake. I couldn't have been awake. I would _never_ have shared a bed with two strange cats. There's no _way_ that was real. Yet Rai's voice continues.

“What were you doing in there? Why did you obey Koujaku’s command, as though he were your master? Am _I_ not your master?” His voice has that strange harsh tone to it once more, that frightening tone. 

“You _are_ ,” I insist, though, at this point, I’m awfully confused. Since when do I have a master? I'm my own master, but I don’t know what else I can say. Wasn’t it just a dream? I'm washed over with a sense of helplessness, and my words start to flow faster. “I thought I was _dreaming_. Perhaps because Aoba is a Siren, and he and Koujaku are a pair, and he was singing to help me heal? I don’t know _why_ I couldn’t disobey. But I didn’t have a choice.” I can't suppress my awful feelings of shame, and a tear slips down my cheek. Rai licks it from my face.

Surprisingly, he seems satisfied with my answer. So I ask my question once again.

“Why do you smell so strange? I don’t like it.”

“Hmpf,” he replies. “Do you think _you_ have a right to tell me where I can go, what I can do?” His tone is still surprisingly harsh, almost back to the Captain’s voice, which is much too loud for the small room. Why would he speak to me like that? I flatten my ears in response, and I realize my hands are trembling, and my tail bristles.

“Do I frighten you? Perhaps this is a _good_ thing. You should remember your place, Siren.”

I look down at my hands, frustrated. He isn’t going to talk to me, so I soften my voice. “You really aren’t going to tell me where you were, then?” I glance up at him, blinking my eyelashes slowly, and then look back down at my hands holding the glass of water, being deliberately coy.

“What are you playing at, Siren?” He’s raised his voice slightly, almost to the level of full Captain volume now, and it’s frightening. I try not to let it show, and instead, I flash my eyes at him once more, just like I did before, coyly, but say nothing.

Suddenly, he growls lowly and pounces on me, scaring the shit out of me in earnest, and knocking the wind from my lungs, pinning my arms overhead, straddling my waist. The water glass flies from my hands, across the room and landing on the floor with a crash. His tail is puffed up and lashing back and forth, and I can see it over his shoulder. My tail pounds against the bed desperately while I blink my eyes in shock.

“I asked you a question, Siren, and I expect an answer. What kind of game are you playing?”

“N-nothing!” I stammer. “I’m not playing _anything_!” I hope this answer will satisfy him—I have _no_ idea why he’s gotten so upset—well, I kind of have an _idea_ , but I _hope_ it isn't because I've been coy and flirty.

“Then _why_ are you flashing your eyes seductively at me like that? What do you _think_ is going to happen to you when you do something like that?” His voice is much lower, and his face is right in front of mine. He is holding my chin with his other hand, forcing me to look in his eye.

_Shit. It's because I've been coy and flirty._

He brings a claw up to my throat, tracing the line of my throat all the way to my collarbone. I’m genuinely afraid, my tail quivering in distress. But I _have_ to know— _did he kill that man?_

“Did you kill him?” I whisper, quietly. “Is that why you smell this way?”

Rai looks at me, slowly trailing his claw along my collarbone, back up my throat, making me gulp loudly, and up to my mouth. He follows the trail of his claw with his tongue. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and husky. “What if I _did_? He would _never_ bother you again. He is the type of cat who, once he becomes obsessed with something, can never let go. I gave him the chance to disappear, and yet, he returned. He returned and harmed you, violated you in unspeakable ways, injured you, traumatized you. Even him _touching_ you is something I cannot tolerate. You are _my_ Siren. You belong to _me_ , body and soul. Suppose I told you he is no longer a threat. Would you be upset? Or wouldn't you feel relief?”

I’m shocked by his reply—taken aback. Did he _kill_ Mink? Just like that? He walked into his headquarters and slaughtered him? His scent definitely would make sense in that case, but still! _Just like that?_

“You don’t have to worry about him coming after you again,” Rai’s voice murmurs into my ear, and his tongue enters right afterward, making my body shudder.

My fuzzy brain wonders briefly if his headache was a result of his violent behavior. I’d been told his headaches were frequent, but I haven’t witnessed even _one_ since I’ve been with him. But he hasn’t been going around killing people, either. He’s been… _otherwise_ occupied. And I've kept him  _quite_ occupied.

“Were you suffering from one of your headaches just now?” I ask, squirming a little under his touch. I want to know, and I want to know if the headaches are the cause of this madness I sensed. Or if it’s the madness that causes the headaches. That pain was unbearable; no one should have to suffer like that, and I want to heal him from that affliction if I can. Isn’t that why he’s been searching for me? It can’t _just_  be for sex. I think we just happened to be compatible that way. Right?

“I was, but your song helped quite a bit,” the low voice purrs, his tongue assaulting my ear.

“You were in terrible pain,” I say, trying to distract him from the rough grooming I’m receiving. It’s _too_ rough, in fact, and I twitch my ear to try escaping. “Rai—too rough—you’re hurting me!”

“I don’t want you smelling of any other cat but me,” he snarls, and keeps licking me just as roughly. “I don’t care if he _is_ a Siren. He has no right to touch you, no right to groom you. I forbid it. You should have refused, all commands aside. I don’t like you smelling of other cats!”

Tears brim in my eyes at his words as Rai pins me down and starts licking me even more soundly—grooming my ears in a way that implies _I’ve_ done something wrong. 

His tongue is rougher than mine, and he’s using fangs on me now as well—his teeth skim the tender skin of my ears, pulling on the jewelry in my piercing. He licks the same spot many times over, putting his scent on me, removing Aoba’s scent, removing Koujaku’s scent, and finally, removing any scent left from Mink as well. 

However he’s hurting me as he does this, so of course, I try to resist. I don’t like it—it’s too harsh and violent, and it’s forced, and I don’t understand why I should be subjected to this treatment. I am a cat and want to be treated as one.

I realize I am protesting loudly for him to stop and fighting him off with my hands and claws, when Rai finally says, “ _Konoe_ , stop resisting. Allow me to groom you as I like.”

His command takes away my ability to fight, and instead, a small, discouraged noise of defeat leaks from my mouth. He isn’t drawing blood, but he is pulling my fur and scratching the tender skin. Over and over, and I cannot fight him. Tears fall from my eyes and trail down my cheeks.

He moves down my neck and throat, nipping me, and follows Aoba's touch there as well. He circles both my nipples, pulling them roughly with his teeth, and I clench my teeth. The skin is terribly sensitive, but I try not to cry out. I cannot move away, so my body simply shivers and shudders. I dislike the sensation. It's like being tickled and not being able to fight off your attacker, only much rougher.

Soon, he moves to my tail, and I’m terrified. I _don’t_ want him to touch my fur on my tail— _not like that_. I don’t want this! He’s flipped me over on the bed, my legs folded beneath my body. I’m naked, as usual. Since when did nudity become the usual for me? I flush thinking about it, my face heating up. However, instead of him simply attacking me, hands softly brush my buttocks.

“ _Please_ ,” I beg, being as sincere as I can. “I am so sensitive. _Please_ , be gentle. You know have to submit—I cannot fight when you command me, but this is _too_ _much_. _Please_ , won’t you at least slow down? I don’t want any more violent treatment today! I can’t handle it. Won’t you _please_ be gentle with me?”

My song changes with my words, and I think it’s the song, more than my words, which influences him.

“Keep quiet,” his voice murmurs. However, just the tip of his tongue touches my tail at the base. A shudder runs through the length of my tail and spine, and I want to stretch out my legs, but his hands hold me in place.

“Be still.” The voice comes again, filling me a certain amount of fear for what might come. Yet the strokes from his tongue are gentle. He brushes the fur backward, which literally rubs me the wrong way, sending crazy shivers through my body. I cannot stop trembling. Part of me enjoys his attention—and I relish the feeling that runs through my body, especially as he moves his mouth closer to the tip of my tail.

He’s combing my fur gently, tending to each strand of fur multiple times over—first licking backward several times, then righting it, smoothing it down. I usually don’t care to have my fur on my tail brushed backward at all, but with his tongue, it feels heavenly! He’s even taking care to groom the soft downy undercoat that makes my fur plush, and it’s causing me to bristle in response. Also, I find myself purring rather loudly. I can’t help myself.

I get more and more sensitive, I realize, and I’ve become quite hard and breathless from him grooming me like this. I think he is aware of my state, because his hands snake their way around my hips, and he spreads my legs apart.

“You’re not usually this sensitive when I groom you, are you?” He hums the question softly when he reaches the hooked part of my tail. 

A particularly violent shiver goes through me, and I gasp loudly in response, embarrassed. “Y-you d-don’t usually groom m-me like this.”

“Don’t I? I take special care to groom you, at least twice a day, making sure you’re covered in my scent.” He sounds almost offended at my response as if I’m not giving him enough credit.

“M-maybe, but n-not like this—ah!” I try and fail to stifle a pleasured sigh at the end of my retort.

He really doesn’t groom me like this—not holding me down, and not licking me so torturously slowly.

“Your complaints make me want to bite you. You, relax, and be quiet.” I yelp when a fang grazes the tip of my tail to make his point, but I feel his lips curve into a smile against the most sensitive part of my body.

I groan into the mattress, trying not to move too much, but I can’t help the shivers that course through me. I claw into the bed, holding myself down low. I’m almost painfully stiff now—so close to coming I don’t know what to do. I know _he_ knows I’m close, and he’s slowing down purposefully, tormenting me.

“Gah—if you keep that up—ah—Rai,” I try to give him some warning.

“What, now? This? Do you _like_ this?” He pops the tip of my tail into his mouth again and sucks on it, surrounding me with his mouth and tongue, his fangs dangerously close to the sensitive hooked part, and suddenly simultaneously grabs the base of my tail firmly, rubbing the fur in the wrong direction. And that’s all the final stimulation I need. He never even touches my cock.

I cry out loudly, unable to control myself, and my vision suddenly explodes into white—and I climax. It takes me by surprise, frankly, and my toes curl in the waves of pleasure that follow that release. I didn’t know I could come from tail play alone—but what’s worse is that Rai doesn’t stop grooming me after I come—he just keeps grooming—in long gentle strokes—murmuring lowly about not being finished with me yet.

At first, it feels really nice, and then, as he approaches the base of my tail—he’s moving back down—I get _really_ sensitive and can’t help squirming. I find myself begging for mercy.

“Please, Rai—it’s enough— _please_ —isn’t it enough?— _Please_ ,” and I try to escape his grasp, but I can’t.

“You are fine, Konoe. _Relax_.” His low voice says. “Your job is to obey, remember.”

Strange utterances, almost sobbing sounds, drop from my lips. I’m overly stimulated, but I stop struggling.

“So sweet and obedient. Just what I require from you,” Rai’s voice is soft and gentle. His hands aren’t holding me down anymore since I am unable to move. Instead, they stroke my back and my hips gently, and my skin feels good, shivering under his fingers. “I like to feel you responding to my touch. That man will never bother you again. You are mine, and I will always protect what is mine. Those two crew members who injured you, they won’t bother you anymore, either. I can promise you that.”

A violent chill of another kind runs through me—almost like a bucket of ice poured on me from above. This cat is _terrifying_ —that thought runs through my mind. I am afraid. Rai killed  _three_ people. Then, the Siren speaks in my head:  _He is protecting you. He knows they would_ never _leave you alone. Sirens are addicting. Once a cat has touched a Siren, he_ cannot _leave him alone. Better than any other person, Rai knows this—he’s been searching for you for years. He is protecting you. He gave them a chance to walk away and they refused._ This _is the cat you want on your side. Love him for it._ Reward _him for it._

I look at Rai, over my shoulder and twist my upper body around. I grab his face with both of my hands, putting my hands on his cheeks. He flinches in surprise, but his face softens immediately.

“Thank you for looking out for me, for protecting me,” I whisper. “I have no one else who would protect me, to rely on. How can I ever repay you?”

When I ask that question, that pale blue eye widens slightly and heats up with passion, only for a moment before cooling to its regular blue.

“Siren, you are wounded. I couldn’t ask for any such thing. Simply promise that you will stay by my side, and that will be enough.”

“Is your head better?” I ask gently. “Shall I sing for you?” The words coming from my mouth surprise me— _I_ didn’t speak them—that was the Siren.

“I’m much better, thanks to your song. I had no idea how well your song would work. It felt like the first time we met.” Stretching my legs out on the bed and turning me onto my side, he grasps both my hands in his. “You truly have a magic touch. Thank you. I will accept it as a token of your gratitude.”

His lips meet mine, gently, and again, he’s the calm silver Captain I know. I’m still thinking of the madness behind that calm face, however, and I’m just a little afraid of him, wondering where that other cat went. Is he still in there, and does he show up from time to time—in the claw play from a few days ago, perhaps, or in the rough grooming earlier? I don’t _hate_ him—he just frightens me. It’s almost like another being living inside of this calm, collected cat.

However, who am _I_ to talk? I have a Siren living within me.

“You, kitten, need to rest and must heal. You should be sleeping. Konoe, _sleep_ now.”

Much to my surprise, as soon as those words leave his lips, I’m attacked by a huge yawn, followed by a giant stretch, and the tension leaves my body. I blink slowly, and more slowly, till my eyelids grow too heavy to open, and I drift off to sleep, curled up in powerful arms.

Sometimes, those commands can be quite useful. I don't need to worry about those sort of thoughts. I can simply sleep.


End file.
